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I summoned "Local Board 163" in Court Martial proceedings 



CONSCRIPT 2989 

EXPERIENCES OF A DRAFTED MAN 



ILLUSTRATED BY 

H. B. MARTIN 



Ov 



t^ v^vvv-x-^,\. 




NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 

1918 



"-^^l 



^ 






COPYBISHT, 1918, BY 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc. 

Service Flag Design on Cover Patented November 6, 1917 

Reproduced by Permission of Annin & Co., Flag Makers, 
New York 



FEB 20 1918 



O yt^jt.- 



IC1.A481749 



TO 

MY MOTHER AND FATHER 

and every other Mother and Father, who spend hours 
wondering about the welfare of their son, this book is 
dedicated. And with it comes the assurance that life 
in the big cantonment contains a full measure of real 
happiness, and that all hardships are mitigated by a 
sense of humor which develops even in the worst of 
pessimists. We are contented, for to compensate for 
the absence of you and all that you mean, comes the 
knowledge that we are doing everything that brave men 
and women, the world over, would have us do at times 
like these. We are doing a man's work and by the 
token of the service flag in your window you should 
know that the days of patched trousers, darned stock- 
ing, of toy fire engines, play soldiers, and noisy drums, 
were not spent in vain. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 

Thursday: 

/^ NCE when I was an enthusiastic freshman 
^^ (it seems ages ago) I joined a Latin society 
that had for its inspiration the phrase, forsan 
haec olim meminisse juvahit. 

All I can remember about the society is the 
motto, and there is nothing particularly pleas- 
ant about the recollection, either. But some- 
how to-night that fool phrase comes back to me 
and makes a pessimist of me right off. I wonder 
how pleasant these things are going to be and 
whether I will want to remember them here- 
after. Perhaps I won't have much choice. I'll 
probably remember them whether I want to or 
not. Already my first eight hours of active 
service as Conscript 2989 have some sharp edges 
sticking out which I am likely to remember, 
though many of them are far from pleasant. 

I am now truly a member of the army of the 
great unwashed and unwashable — no, I take that 
back. They are washable. I saw a grizzly old 

1 



2 CONSCEIPT 2989 

Sergeant herding four of them out to the wash- 
room this evening. Each of them carried a 
formidable square of yellow soap and a most 
unhappy expression. But the Sergeant looked 
pleased with his detail. 

Never in my wildest flights of fancy can I 
picture some of these men as soldiers. Slavs, 
Poles, Italians, Greeks, a sprinkling of Chinese 
and Japs — Jews with expressionless faces, and 
what not, are all about me. I^m in a barracks 
with 270 of them, and so far IVe found a half 
dozen men who could speak English without an 
accent. Is it possible to make soldiers of these 
fellows? Well, if muscle and bone (principally 
bone) is what is wanted for material, they have 
got it here with a vengeance. But, then, from 
the looks of things they have been doing won- 
ders and they may make creditable soldiers of 
them at that. Goodness knows, they may even 
make a soldier out of me, which would be a 
miracle. Here's hoping. 



Friday: 

I only need to glance back over the page I 
wrote last night to see how / felt. This con- 



4 CONSCRIPT 2989 

scripting must have gotten under my skin a 
little deeper than I thought. I'll admit I was 
homesick, and I guess it made me a little testy. 
I think I really should tear that page out and 
begin over. It isn't exactly fair, and, besides, 
it doesn't fulfil the function of a diary, anyway, 
which, I take it, is a record of events and things 
— ^not a criticism of everybody in general and 
an opportunity to give vent to disagreeable 
feelings. 

From a "close-up" view yesterday may have 
seemed like a trying day, but to-night it looks 
a lot different and a lot more interesting. I 
must confess that all the ** good-byes," and the 
bands, and the weeping mothers and sweet- 
hearts, and the handshakes, and the pompous 
old turtles (who dodged the draft in the Civil 
War or bought substitutes) who slapped you 
on the back and told you how they wished they 
were young again, along with the arrival of 
the "Kaiser Kanners," who unquestionably 
were "kanners" of another variety, and the 
parade and the Home Guard and the dozen 
and one * ' Comfort Kits ' ' that every one handed 
you, and the mystery of what was to come, and 
the scared look on every one's face, including 



6 CONSCRIPT 2989 

my own, and the vacant feeling in the pit of 
one's stomach, superinduced by sandwiches 
and coffee, fudge, oranges and chocolates in 
lieu of a real meal, did get on my nerves. 

But, hang it, when I look back we got a great 
farewell, at that. And the local Board did 
things up mighty well. I find myself pos- 
sessed of a razor, razor strop, wrist watch, two 
pocket knives, unbreakable mirror, drinking 
cup and a lot of other things that I never 
expected to own or need. I haven't the re- 
motest idea where many of them came from. 

Then there was that long, almost never end- 
ing train ride, which seemed to be taking me 
on an unbearable distance from the place I 
really felt I belonged. 

And the arrival ; all I saw when I tumbled off 
the train were thousands of unpainted buildings 
and millions of fellows in khaki, and every one 
of them had a fiendish grin on his face as he 
shouted: **0h, you rookey. Wait, just wait; 
you'll get yours! When they bring on the 
needle. Oh, the needle." 

I had a vague idea of what the ** needle" 
might be, but it wasn't pleasant to hear about 
it from every one I met. But I guess there 



CONSCRIPT 2989 7 

were a lot of fellows who were not quite 
certain what this threatening ^^ needle'' was. 
Foolishly two of them asked one of the Ser- 
geants who met us at the train and what they 
heard in reply to their queries made them paler 
than they were before, if that were possible. 
Thereafter, for the rest of the afternoon and 
evening, the *' needle'' was the subject of 
earnest conversation among us all, and the 
doubts and misgivings about that instrument 
of torture, coupled with a thoroughly good case 
of homesickness on the part of every one of us 
helped to make a pleasant (I) evening. And 
that most of us worried until far into the night 
is certain. I know I did, and the Italian on 
my left cried himself to sleep, and didn't try 
to hide his unhappiness either. Oh, it was a 
delightful evening, all things considered. 

Forty-seven of us, all from my own district, 
came down together, and while we remained in 
one group there was a measure of consolation 
to be had for us all. But our hopes that we 
would stay together at camp were dashed 
immediately we got off the train. In fact we 
were so thoroughly split up that I managed to 
get into a squad composed entirely of for- 



8 CONSCRIPT 2989 

signers, and I'm still with them. But the 
prospects of a change are excellent. 

Quite as docile as sheep, and just as ig- 
norant, we were marched down one camp street 
after another. My friends of foreign extrac- 
tion, with due regard for anything that looked 
like a uniform, saluted every one that passed, 
and they were tolerably busy until we were 
halted outside of our present abode, a big two- 
story, unpainted barracks building. 

Here mess kits were served to each of us, and 
though we did not know the combination that 
unlocked the mysterious looking things, we 
were glad to get them, because they added so 
much to the dozen and one things we were 
already carrying. Then, completely smother- 
ing us, came two tremendous horse blankets 
and a comforter. Those comforters were 
everything their name implies. Not only did 
they afford warmth, but amusement as well. 
They ranged in shades from baby blue and 
pink to cerise and lavender, and some one with 
a sense of humour must have distributed them. 
The stout, pudgy, black-haired Italian to my 
left reposes under the voluminous folds of a 
beautiful pink creation, and across the room 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



sits a huge Irishman, with hands as big as 
hams and shoulders of a giant, with a baby 
blue comforter wrapped about him. Mine is 
a bewitching old rose. But, believe me, it's 
there with the quality if it isn't much on looks. 
I found that out last night. 

Then, after the Sergeant showed us where we 
bunked and where we could expect to find some- 
thing to eat 
about supper 
time, every one 
left us severely 
alone, which was 
mostly what we 
wanted, because 
we all had a lot 
on our mind be- 
tween homesick- 
ness and that 
blessed * * n e e - 
die." But there 
was some work to do, such as stuffing mattresses 
with hay, sweeping out the barracks and similar 
occupations until bed time. 

Some one, who had evidently heard some 
weird tales about the punishment meted out to 




A baby blue comforter wrapped 
about him 



10 CONSCRIPT 2989 

those who overslept at camp, brought an alarm 
clock along with him, and the blooming thing 
went off at 4 a.m. Of course we got up, 
switched the lights on over head, and pro- 
ceeded to get dressed with that resigned now- 
what-are-you-going-to-do-with-us air. 

But dressing was interrupted by a string of 
the most beautiful cusses I ever heard, coming 
downstairs just in advance of a mighty mad 
looking Sergeant: 

**Who in tarnation bow-wows has got 

that alarm clock? Pitch it out the 

window, and git back to bed.'' 

It went and we went. But that's as far as 
we could go. Thoughts of the *^ needle" and 
other forms of torture which we were to face in 
a few short hours kept most of us awake until 
a quarter after five, when every officer in camp 
began to blow letter-carrier whistles. Then we 
all got up and were introduced to some physical 
exercises guaranteed to stretch every muscle in 
our makeup. I took a cold shower bath after 
mine, and was the object of interest of the 
entire barracks. Great stuff (I mean the 
shower). 

Most of us might have been tolerably happy 



12 CONSCRIPT 2989 

after that, if it hadn't been for the fact that 
every man in uniform made some evil sug- 
gestion about the ** needle.'' And when they 
saw us all, white and corpsey looking and more 
or less unsteady on our legs, line up in front of 
the barracks and march off under our Second 
Lieutenant, the groans and sorry faces they 
feigned were enough to make one's blood run 
cold. And then we got the ** needle." 

I, for one, was disappointed, and so were 
most of the rest of us. But there were a few 
who didn't give themselves a chance to be dis- 
appointed. They promptly fainted: not be- 
cause of the injection but because of the state 
of their nerves which they all admitted after- 
ward. There were a few things about the 
examination calculated to scare a man to death 
such as the question: **In case you are shot 
and killed to whom do you wish six months' 
pay to be sent!" Many of us stammered a 
bit before answering. 

After that we stripped, lined up and started 
on our way. Then measured, marked and 
finger-printed, we arrived before a physician 
who stamped a quarter section under the left 
shoulder blade with a sponge covered with 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



13 



iodine, while another one scratched the skin on 
our upper arm to mark the acreage to be cov- 
ered by a vaccination. We moved on to two 
more physicians, and while one dug a hunk out 




Jabbed at the iodine mark and pulled the trigger 

of our arm and inserted vaccine in place of the 
skin removed, the other man, with a villainously 
long hypodermic, jabbed at the iodine mark and 
pulled the trigger. And now, by George, if 
any one else around here tries to kid me into 
worrying about anything at all, I'm going to 
talk back proper. They sure had me scared 



14 CONSCEIPT 2989 

stiff and I'll admit it. Why, hang it, I 
would rather have had typhoid than face 
that *^ needle" before I really knew what it 
amounted to. But here I am, with germs 
variously estimated at from 15,000 to 250,000 
circulating around inside of me, due to said 
'* needle,'' and aside from a little wooziness in 
the head, and a sore shoulder, I'm quite con- 
tented and ready to turn in. Good-night. 



Saturday: 

The serum injections of yesterday produced 
some queer, and in one case unfortunate, results. 
Last night after taps were sounded and lights 
were out, I lay awake a long time in spite of 
the fact I was very tired. 

Couldn't understand it, and my arm and back 
were as sore as could be. Hour after hour 
wore on, and I couldn't get to sleep. Some 
did, however, and I had a regular frog's chorus 
of snores to keep me company. I became a 
veritable specialist in snores and wheezes and 
grunts. Every time I heard a new variety I 
formed mental pictures of the men who prob- 
ably made them. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 15 

Then the chorus was interrupted by some 
one not far from me who called out mourn- 
fully : ^ * Oh, my back, my back ! The needle ! ' ' 
Then in sharper tones: *^ Count off. 1-2-3-4.'' 
I wondered what horrors his overwrought 
nerves were causing him to dream of. 

But when I did get to sleep I slept soundly, 
certainly, for they told me this morning that 
one chap had become seriously ill, and had been 
carried from the barracks to an ambulance and 
whisked away to the hospital sometime during 
the small hours of the morning. It seems that 
he had an excess of germs circulating around 
inside of him, due to the fact that he did not 
know enough to move on after the doctor had 
given him the first injection, and the physician, 
looking only for the nearest iodine spot, shot 
him twice in the same place. 

However, I am reasonably certain I'll sleep 
to-night all right, for I've been pulling stumps 
all day, or rather during the time I wasn't 
learning to recognize my right foot from my 
left, and a few other things that every man 
thinks he knows until some one takes the pains 
to expose his ignorance. Oh, I have the quali- 
ties of a really capable soldier in me — if some 



16 CONSCRIPT 2989 

one can find them. As an infantryman I'm a 
much better stump puller. I proved that this 
afternoon. I have a beautiful double handful 
of blisters, not to mention a ruined suit of 
clothes and hopeless shoes, to my credit in this 
war of exterminating the Hun. I hope we get 
uniforms soon, because if we don't, I'll be going 
about clad in my old rose comforter and some 
summer underclothes. 

Stump pulling is rough on clothes, but it 
certainly is an appetite builder. I've dis- 
covered already that it is good policy to be 
among the first on line with a mess kit, then 
if you can bolt your beef a-la-mode fast enough, 
and get outside and wash up your kit, you stand 
a good chance of joining the last of the line, 
thereby getting a second helping. Indeed, 
several fellows have it down to such a science 
already, that they get three helpings before the 
cook begins to say things. 

The barracks is beginning to look pic- 
turesque. The atmosphere of a western 
mining camp, arranged for stage purposes, 
prevails. The Italians, swarthy-faced, heavy- 
featured fellows, for the most part, gather in 
little groups, smoke villainous pipes and play 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



17 



cards incessantly, whenever they are allowed 
much time in the barracks. Our Semitic 
friends linger in the vicinity of the door that 
leads to the mess hall and kitchen, especially 




Italians gather in little groups 

about meal time. And their mess kits are 
always handy. Nicknames have already be- 
come common, and we have among us such 
worthies as Fat, Doc, Peck's Bad Boy, Toney, 
Binkie, Shortie, Shrimp, Simp and Pop. The 
last name has been applied to me, inspired, no 
doubt, by the suggestion of baldness aloft. 



18 CONSCRIPT 2989 

Smiday: 

Didn't sleep much last night, for some 
reason. Think I was too tired. This is the 
third night IVe lost time. Beginning to feel 
it now. But no one else seemed to sleep well 
either, or at least they didn't go to sleep right 
off. Lights out at ten and all supposed to 
be ** tucked in.'' Then came various remarks 
from the darkness ; choice, unprintable remarks 
about the Kaiser, the Government, the Ser- 
geant, certain Corporals, who doubtless heard 
all their well-wishers had to say, but could not 
identify the speakers. Indeed, it struck me that 
the fellows had hit upon a choice way of telling 
certain non-coms what they thought of them, 
without the possibility of getting in bad. Then 
arguments started in the darkness, and the 
vocal combatants were urged on by catcalls and 
encouraging yells from various sections of the 
unlighted room, and presently shoes started 
flying. 

About that time the Top Sergeant upstairs 
woke up, and decided to investigate. Silence 
fell in the big room when the stairs, creaking 
under his weight, gave warning that the crusty 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



19 



old veteran of fifteen years' service with the 
Regulars was on his way down. 

The door opened and a pocket flashlight 
began to travel from cot to cot. But strangely 




The Top Sergeant made the round of the cots 

enough every one was slumbering contentedly, 
and some even snoring. The Top Sergeant 
made the round of the cots, reached the door 
and ** doused his glim.'' 

Then with a most impressive introduction of 

profanity he remarked that ''The next , 

, son-of-a-bandmaster, who started any- 



20 CONSCEIPT 2989 

thing would spend the rest of the night out on 
the porch in his underclothes/' whereupon 
some wag from the darkness replied: *^Put t' 
Kaiser out there, he started it. ' ' While others 
sweetly remarked: ** Good-night SeYgeant/' 
** Pleasant dreams, dear/' **Come kiss me 
good-night." and *^ Don't forget to tuck us 
all in.'' 

But things eventually subsided and I dozed 
off, only to be awakened later by some one 
kissing me on the cheek. It was startling to 
say the least, and I sat up. I thought perhaps 
the Sergeant had come back to say good-night. 
Then it happened again, only this time on my 
hand, and I heard an eager little whine, and a 
sniff-sniff-sniffing that told me plainly a dog 
was beside my cot. 

I chirped encouragingly and up he came. 
Then he dived between the blankets and bur- 
rowing deep worked his way down to the foot 
of my cot. Evidently he had slept in army cots 
before. All my efforts to dislodge him were 
futile and I knew that unless I got up and un- 
made my bed he would not come out. So I left 
him, and he in gratitude kept my feet warm. 

This morning he appeared at reveille, waking 



CONSCRIPT 2989 21 

me up with his frantic efforts to dig himself to 
light again and kissing me good-morning, by- 
way of showing his appreciation. He was just 
a plain yellow dog, with a lop ear and a habit 
of wagging all over when he could not get 
enough expression in his stump of a tail. 
Attached to a strap that he wore in place of 
a collar was a tag on which was scrawled: 
** Presented to Local Board No. 163 — Hold the 
fort for we are coming.'' I concluded that if 
they held onto the fort, when they arrived, as 
well as they held onto their dog it wasn't 
worth while having them come at all. 

** Local Board No. 163" stood guard on the 
foot of my bed, or rather, sat guard, until I 
got dressed, and although he created no end of 
interest among the rest of the fellows in the 
room, who whistled and called to him, he re- 
fused to leave his new-found ^^bunkie." He 
just sat tight. He even stayed when I got up 
to go, but he looked at me with a most reproach- 
ful air, as if to say, *^I think a lot of you even 
though you do want to leave me." 

He remained after every one had left the 
room and when I returned an hour later to get 
my mess kit for breakfast, he was still there. 



22 CONSCEIPT 2989 

But the rattle of mess tins must have sug- 
gested something to him for when I got up to 
go this time he was right beside me, and he 
even braved the crush at the mess-hall door to 
stick near me. 

That dog never had so much to eat in all his 
young life as he got for breakfast that morning. 
First he visited our Japanese cook, who liked 
him and proved it by giving him a piece of meat. 
Then he visited the kitchen police, who found 
something for him, after which he made the 
rounds of the mess tables, coming back to me 
actually bloated with food. He looked up at 
me and I'll swear he grinned and tried to say: 
' ' This is the life— eh, OP Top ? ' ' 

''Local Board No. 163" has already become 
a favourite, but with all his petting from his 
many well-wishers, he seems to want to call me 
Boss. He's on the cot beside me now as I 
write, snoring with disgusting impoliteness, but 
I guess, being just a plain yellow dog, he don't 
know any better. 

This has been a day of visitors, and little 
work. Early this morning they began to 
arrive. I never saw so many motor cars any- 
where, except at football games, or the races. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



23 



And girls ; thousands of them, and pretty, too. 
But shucks, I'm outclassed. In fact I began to 
feel like my dog to-day. I'll admit it was 
pretty soft for the fellows who had uniforms, 




Pretty soft for the fellows who had uniforms 

but for the poor tramps like myself, who still 
wear their civilian clothes (or what is left of 
them, which isn't very much all told) it was 
sort of a lonesome day. 

Then there were the lucky fellows who had 
passes to leave camp. They looked fine, tramp- 
ing down the road toward the station. Of 



24 CONSCRIPT 2989 

course they were all uniformed; they are not 
allowed to leave camp unless they are. 

But '* Local Board No. 163" and I take con- 
solation in the fact that perhaps next Sunday 
we will be all spick and span in a nice new uni- 
form, and then we'll strike for a pass, too, and 
go home and swagger about a bit ourselves. 

Feeling delightfully tired and sleepy; and I 
know I'll ** press some of the creases out o' my 
blankets" to-night. This place seems almost 
comfortable and homelike now, and the men — 
well I've changed my original opinion of them 
considerably. They all (or most of them) have 
their hearts in the right place, and there aren't 
so many muckers as I thought there might be. 
In fact I'm beginning to like things mighty 
well; really enjoying myself. Only, hang it, 
I think I'm getting a good case of hives. 
Haven't been afflicted thus for about five years. 
If they keep up I'll report to the hospital 
shortly. ^'Come on * Local Board No. 163' 
we'll turn in." 



CONSCRIPT 2989 25 

Monday: 

Several things of importance happened to- 
day. For one thing we got some clothes. I 
say some clothes advisedly, for I'm not all 
clothed yet, being minus such important ar- 
ticles as an undershirt, socks and shoes. But 
those I brought from home, though sanctified 
and made holey by arduous labours in other 
fields, will do for the present. I possess a pair 
of winter breeches and a summer coat, but what 
matters that. It is sufficient to know that they 
fit, which is not the case in several instances, 
notably in that of friends Fat and Shrimp, who, 
I have learned, were not optimistic from the 
first about being fitted properly. It seems that 
from years of experience they have both 
learned never to expect to be fitted anywhere, 
anyhow. Fat 's shirt covers him with an effort, 
but that is all. He can't find a shoehorn with 
which to g^i into his breeches. As for Shrimp : 
his belt is pulled tight about his chest and the 
sleeves of his tunic are rolled up to where his 
elbows should be, only to disclose the tips of 
his fingers. 

But I must confess to a grave error right 



26 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



here. It startled me this evening at retreat. 
Indeed, several things startled me this evening 
at retreat, including my fast developing case 
of hives. 




QM^ 



His belt is pulled tight about his chest 



A few days ago I made some rather boorish 
and very sarcastic remarks about the possi- 
bilities of ever making soldiers out of the men 
I found myself among. I humbly take it all 
back and eat mud by way of apology. Khaki, 
a campaign hat and a shave, together with a 
certain amount of training in how to stand up 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



27 



straight and step off correctly, have made a vast 
difference. Why, hang it, I'm mighty proud to 
belong to this company. Jews, Italians, Poles, 
etc., all look like fighters ; act like fighters ; and 
a lot of them are fighters, too. Why they are 
soldiers already, and glad of it. Which leads 
me to state quite modestly 
the surprising fact that I 
think I am nearly a sol- 
dier, too, and gol-dinged 
set up about it. Honestly 
we looked fine this eve- 
ning. What if there were 
a few misfits I A process 
of barter and exchange 
has already eliminated a 
great deal of that (save 
in the cases of Fat and 
Shrimp, who have gone back to civilian clothes 
until special uniforms are built for them) and 
when we lined up and snapped to attention 
while the band over on Tower Hill played * * The 
Star Spangled Banner '' and the old flag came 
slowly down, we looked like real soldiers every 
inch. We knew it, too, and 111 bet there wasn't 
a prouder company in the entire camp. 




Back to civilian 
clothes until a spe- 
cial uniform is built 



28 CONSCRIPT 2989 

Of course, I had to gum up the ceremony. 
But I guess I'll pay for it to-morrow. Here's 
how it happened: 

We've been drilling, drilling, drilling, all day 
to-day, drilling with a vengeance, and now we 
can do squads right and right front into line 
with as much pep and vigour as a company of 
Regulars. Our Sergeant said so, which is some 
admission for the old moss-back to make. Of 
course, we were tired. I was about ready to 
drop in my tracks when five o 'clock came, which 
is time for evening parade or retreat; a very 
impressive ceremony by the way. My hives 
had been bothering me all day, and every time 
we were at ease, I got in some likely scratches 
in itchy places. 

One beautiful lump developed right under my 
arm just at five o'clock. Holy smokes, how it 
did itch! It was just as if something had 
staked an oil claim right there and wasn't 
losing any time about drilling a well. Of 
course, standing at attention a chap can't 
scratch, at least he's not supposed to — but I 
did. I tried to show extreme fortitude. I 
stood and stood and stood, and the darned 
thing kept boring and boring and boring. Then 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



29 



when the Lieutenants had their backs turned 
and stood at salute while the flag came down, I 
took a chance and scratched. 

That First Lieutenant of ours either has eyes 
in the back of his head or else the Sergeant is 
a tattletale. Anyhow, after the ceremonies and 
before we were dismissed, I was commanded to 
step out, whereupon I was given a most beau- 
tiful call down, after which I said, *' thank you, 
sir'' to a detail as kitchen police, for the next 
week to come starting 
to-morrow. 

When I got back here^v^ 
to my barracks the first^) ^" 
thing I did was to peel j) 
off my shirt and look 
for that hive. I caught 
him. And then the 
whole terrible plot to 
get me detailed as kit- 
chen policeman was re- 
vealed. *' Local Board 
No. 163'' has fleas; or. 




'em. 



I picked Mm up in one 
hand and a cake of yel- 
low soap in the other. 



rather, he had 

I've got 'em now — no, wrong again 

of them, or I hope I did. 



I got rid 



30 CONSCEIPT 2989 

Upon making the hideous discovery, I sum- 
moned * * Local Board No. 163 ' ' in court martial 
proceedings. He was guilty; I could see it by 
the way his spirit sagged in the middle when I 
began to cross-question him. I picked him up 
in one hand and a cake of yellow soap and a 
towel in the other, and we proceeded toward the 
sho¥/er baths. Bur-r-r-r but that water was 
cold. '^ Local Board No. 163" didn't enjoy it 
either, but I could with justice assure him that 
this form of punishment hurt me as much as it 
did him, and what is more I am likely to suffer 
a heap worse to-morrow. 

*^ Local Board No. 163," you sleep vmder the 
bed to-night. 



Tuesday: 

Too blasted tired to write to-night. I did a 
whole winter's work this morning. Shovelled 
nine tons (almost) of coal into the coal bin, as 
a starter. Then peeled a sack of potatoes, 
scrubbed an acre of floor and a half-acre of 
table tops and benches, washed twenty ash cans, 
and other kitchen utensils and — oh, I'm too 
tired now, think I'll wait until to-morrow. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 31 

''Local Board No. 163'' sleeps out on the porch 
to-night. 



Wednesday: 

Still kitchen policing. Yesterday I thought 
I had pulled some job when I peeled an ash can 
full of potatoes, but that was nothing. To-day 
I got a better one. I had to peel the same 
amount of potatoes, only they were in a wash- 
boiler this time. Yes, right off the fire. I 
can't see why the Government has to serve 
potatoes with the jackets off anyway. Why 
don't they let the men peel them? They are 
just as well able to do it as we are. If some 
one ever wants to invent a choice way of pun- 
ishing refractory prisoners in jail I suggest 
they send said refractors into the kitchen and 
give them the gentle job of peeling hot pota- 
toes, by the washboilerful. 

I have a side partner on the kitchen police. 
His name is O'Flynn and he runs into even 
better luck than I do. To-day he shared the 
job of peeling ^^hot ones" with me. Yesterday 
while I had the little task of peeling 'em raw, 
he was handed the nice detail of attending to 



32 CONSCRIPT 2989 

twelve pounds of onions; a tearful occasion, 
until some one with a conscience suggested that 
lie get a bucket of water and peel them under 
water. 'Flynn got the water, with the remark 
that if he waited just a little longer the 
onion pan would have been full of tears, 
which he assumed would have served just as 
well. 

O'Flynn is kitchen policing because he tried 
to come into the barracks after taps. Lights 
out at ten and O'Flynn arrived about 2 g.m. 
He avoided the fire-guard successfully and went 
around to the back of the barracks. There he 
jimmied a window with his pocket knife and got 
it opened, only to have it fall on his neck when 
he was about half-way in. By way of exercise 
he put his elbow through it. Then to add to 
the situation he found himself in the darkened 
mess hall instead of the dormitory, and the 
noise he made when he knocked over several 
benches naturally grated on the Sergeant's 
nerves. Said Sergeant arrived in the hall in 
his union suit about the time O'Flynn had 
untangled himself, and, after cussing him out to 
perfection, he handed the Irishman a week at 
kitchen policing. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 33 

"And now/' said O'Flynn, "f next time I 
come in through t' windey, I'll stay out." 

A week of this and I'll be able to qualify as 
a first rate housekeeper for a lumber camp. 
Already I can lay down a few very necessary 
rules which the average housewife will appre- 
ciate, as for instance : — 

1. Never take it for granted that a man has 
only one appetite. We have two hundred and 
seventy men here, but they carry around an 
aggregate of six hundred appetites. 

2. Never plunge your hands into an ash can 
full of greasy water without first removing 
your wrist watch. 

3. Never attempt to mop up after your men 
folk. Just turn the hose on, lash the nozzle to 
a convenient table leg and walk away and for- 
get about it. 

4. In carrying out a pan full of hot ashes 
never grab the handle. Thrust a stick through 
it, it saves the temper and the floor. 

5. Never let any one kid you into trying to 
take the black off the kitchen pans with sapolio, 
rather throw the pans away. 

Delightfully brief and entertaining job, that 
of removing the black from ash cans that are 



34 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



used to cook soup in. Our Mess Sergeant, the 
pirate, noticed that for about three seconds 
during this afternoon I wasn't doing anything 
in particular, so he gave me a cake of sapolio 




Never let anyone kid you into trying to take the 
black off the kitchen pans 



and a mop and told me to get busy and shine 
up the outside of the pots and pans and get all 
the black off. I went to it and stuck — until our 
Jap cook, the slant-eyed angel, came in about 
two hours later and told me the honourable ash 
cans always got blacked up again so what's the 



CONSCRIPT 2989 35 

use ; and anyhow he wanted to use the mop. I 
almost kissed him. 

Thank goodness the coal shovelling is all over 
with. Finished it yesterday. To-day during 
my moments of leisure I split a few cords of 
kindling wood and carried it into the kitchen, 
but I like splitting wood better than heaving 
coal when it comes to making a choice. 

I've been very popular with *' Local Board 
No. 163/' since I've been in the kitchen. 
Honestly, if that dog had intelligence enough, 
I could almost believe that he induced that flea 
to start this dirty work, for he's the only one 
in the whole company who has benefited by it. 
He hangs around the galley all the time and is 
waxing fat, prosperous and greasy ; greasy be- 
cause he got in the way of some dishwater that 
was being emptied out the back door. And 
now I'll have to give him another scrubbing 
before we turn in, or he'll be crawling in 
under my blankets again. 

Strange I haven't received any letters yet. 
Some chaps are lucky. Letters seem to make 
a big difference in things, even if it's only 
listening in on some other fellow's. Every 
one reads letters out loud so that we can all 



36 CONSCRIPT 2989 

enjoy them, for letters, no matter whom they 
are from, are real events here and one always 
gets a sinking feeling when he discovers there 
aren^t any for him. 



Thursday: 

Real luck at last. No more kitchen policing, 
thank goodness. It all happened thus : 

About the time we had cleaned up the 
remains of breakfast and I was getting ready 
to turn out for ^'settin' ups,'' along comes the 
Captain with two Lieutenants in tow, all with 
official looking papers. We lined up and he 
looked us all over very critically. Then he 
read: 

**Any members of this company qualified to 
fill the following positions, step one pace," and 
a list of occupations followed that included 
everything from barber to horse trainer and 
stage carpenter. Quite a few of us stepped 
out. About ten of the Italian contingent re- 
sponded at the word barber. Fat came for- 
ward as stage carpenter, and when he said 
artist I stepped three paces forward instead 
of one and, saluting, handed him my recom- 



V.:_l 




38 CONSCRIPT 2989 

mendation for the Camouflage Corps. I knew 
I wasn't doing quite the proper thing. But 
you see we were all young and innocent of such 
things as military courtesy, and the Captain 
overlooked the fact that one pace didn't mean 
three, and after he had mentally debated the 
question of calling me down in front of the 
company and had given me the benefit of inex- 
perience, he read the recommendation. 

The result was that I was ordered to report 
immediately to the 2-6 Company, 5-2 Depot 
Battalion. And with visions of avoiding physi- 
cal exercises for about two hours and the pre- 
paring of a midday meal, I needed no urging. 
I gathered up my bed, hay mattress, blankets 
and all and proceeded to find the barracks of 
the 2-6 Company, 5-2 Depot Battalion. 

Of course, it had to be located at tha other 
end of the twenty-four square miles of reser- 
vation. But I had company. Fat, loaded down 
like a dromedary under bed, blankets, a suit- 
case and all, was looking for the same barracks. 
So we started on our wanderings together, 
hopeful of finding our new home before dinner 
was served. 

We found it. And we found a lot of other 



CONSCRIPT 2989 39 

fellows looking for the same home. It seems 
this Depot Battalion, of which I am now a part, 
is composed entirely of specialists, lawyers, 
linguists, engineers, artists, architects, car- 
penters and what not, and just about the time 
we were being transferred, other specialists 
were being selected from other companies and 
sent on their way to the Headquarters Divi- 
sions of the various regiments. So our corner 
of the camp has been quite popular all day, 
with men staggering in under loads of per- 
sonal belongings like a lot of gipsies looking 
for new places to hang their O.D's. 

We, I mean Fat and myself, are among a 
different class of fellows now and this moving 
business has changed my opinion of the camp. 
From a hit or miss proposition as it first ap- 
peared, it has become a very systematic and 
well-organized cantonment. It is being worked 
out like a gigantic piece of machinery and there 
isn't any question in my mind now but that we 
will all, sooner or later, fit into the places where 
we will be able to serve the Government best. 
Here I have been trying for months to discover 
how I can get into the Camouflage Corps, which 
so far as I could learn was a mythical organi- 



40 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



zation which no one knew very much about. 
Meanwhile, I have been hoping to keep out of 
the draft army for fear of being side-tracked 

and given a bayo- 
net, instead of a 
paint brush, to 
beat the Huns 
with. 

And here I am 
conscripted, and in- 
side of a week 
singled out as ma- 
terial for the Ca- 
mouflage unit, with 
a nice place wait- 
ing for me to stay 
until said unit 
needs me. They are doing it up in really busi- 
nesslike fashion and no doubting it. 

But in the shuffle I've lost my dog. He's 
only been with me a few days and he's done 
nothing but get me into trouble all the time, 
yet I miss the little beggar. He wasn't about 
when I gathered up my belongings this morn- 
ing, and I haven't had time to look him up all 
day. Perhaps, before taps I'll wander down 




Material for the camouflage 
unit 



CONSCRIPT 2989 41 

to the other barracks and see if I can find 
him. 



Friday: 

Real work began in earnest here this morn- 
ing, for the officers in command of the various 
companies of the Headquarters Divisions, or 
Depot Battalions, or whatever it is these par- 
ticular departments are called, are determined 
to rush our drill instructions as fast as pos- 
sible, because there is no telling when any one 
or any number of us will be needed somewhere 
else in the U. S. A. or in France, all of which 
sounds promising for a quick change. I'm 
willing, and I sure hope it's France. 

Our day is just filled full of hay-footing and 
straw-footing and squads righting and all that 
sort of thing. I am learning things gradually 
by dint of much cussing on the part of our 
Sergeant, who is also late of the Regular, and 
who certainly has as choice a vocabulary as 
our former drillmaster. 

We must have a very capable Mess Sergeant 
in this barracks, for the meals here are mighty 
good J better than those we received in the other 



42 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



barracks. We actually had ice cream and tea 
this noon, a thing unheard of in most of the 
barracks. 

And our cook is a wonder. He's an old 
cockney sea-dog, who looks like a regular buc- 
caneer, and he has a parrot, too, whom he calls 

Jock. Jock spends most 
of his time sitting on the 
edge of the coal bin 
shrieking **Lazy Pig." 
But neither Jock nor 
his master has a sense 
of humour; the cook 
gets mad when he finds 
a man trying to ring in 
a third helping and 
when he gets mad, Jock 
screams: **Lazy pig, 
lazy pig," and dances 
up and down in a 
frenzy. 
I went back to the old barracks last night, to 
find the place almost filled with new men, all 
worried looking and pale, and much dis- 
turbed over that first night horror, the 
** needle." I didn't relieve their mental 




Our cook looked like a 
regular buccaneer. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 43 

anguish a particle, which was most unchristian- 
like. 

Several of the men remaining from the 
former company told me that most of the orig- 
inal company had been split up between the 
** Suicide Club" which is the machine gun com- 
panies, the transportation division and the 
infantry. As for ** Local Board No. 163'' no 
one had seen him about. Possibly he has be- 
come disgusted with high-toned individuals who 
object to fleas, and has gone off and joined the 
infantry. Well I wish him luck. 

I really believe I'm taking a very deep in- 
terest in this soldiering after all. I didn't 
think I would at first, but now I find I'm watch- 
ing the colour of my hat cord with interest. I 
want to see it lose its newness and get faded- 
out looking, like a regular soldier's hat cord. 

Saturday: 

On the camp calendar, to-day is marked down 
as a half -holiday, which is another one of the 
pleasant little jokes they have down here. It 
is a haK-holiday. We quit drilling at twelve 
o'clock. But there is a Sunday ceremony they 



44 CONSCRIPT 2989 

have called inspection and sometimes when the 
Lieutenant wants to leave camp early on Sun- 
day he decides to hold inspection on Saturday 
afternoon. 

About twelve o 'clock some one reminds some 
one else that the aforementioned ceremony is 
on the program of weekly events, and there- 
by spoils the whole pleasure for the day. At 
inspection the Lieutenant saunters through the 
barracks, inspects the beds and the stacks of 
underclothing, socks and similar equipment 
piled thereon, and if said underclothing, etc., do 
not show signs of recent acquaintance with 
soap and water, almost anything is likely to 
happen. 

And, of course, since no one is systematic 
about doing washing, all the dirty clothing and 
extra socks pile up until Saturday, and then on 
the half -holiday the scrubbing tables in the rear 
of the barracks are the most popular play- 
grounds. 

The washing process is interesting. Every 
one lines up and dips into the same basin of 
water. Government soap is supplied in quan- 
tities, so are the scrubbing brushes. One lays 
his jeans and undershirt out nice and smooth 



CONSCRIPT 2989 45 

on a long table, pours a basin of water over 
them, applies the soap as if it were a holy- 
stone until the underclothing is covered with a 
soft yellow scum. And then he spends the rest 
of the afternoon trying to get the soap off. 
The more lather a chap makes the better 
washerman he is, from all appearances. 

The rear of the barracks on a Saturday after- 
noon looks like a string of tenement house back- 
yards, with flapping garments hanging from 
everything, including the electric light wires, 
and men in various degrees of attirement stand 
around waiting for the garments to get dry. Oh, 
you daren't leave them and go off on some other 
mission while the wind does its duty. You 
simply have to stick and keep a careful eye on 
everything you own, otherwise : — ^well it works 
on the principle that the man who grabs the 
most is the best-dressed man for the following 
week, and if you are not there to prove owner- 
ship you are liable to find a pocket handker- 
chief where your undershirt was and the 
handkerchief isn't always what it was orig- 
inally intended to be. 

I did manage to get my wash done and gath- 
ered up in time to see the last ten minutes of 



46 CONSCRIPT 2989 

a Gaelic football game over on the parade 
grounds. But next week I'm going to take the 
advice of the Sergeant who suggests that I 
follow the example of Regular Army men and 
wash each piece as it becomes soiled. I wonder 
if I am systematic enough for that? 



Sunday: 

No I didn't draw a pass. I've been around 
camp the whole bloomin' day, but there were 
about fifteen thousand lucky fellows who did 
draw passes. I saw them going down in 
groups for every train to the city since four 
o'clock yesterday afternoon. But Fat and I 
seem to be a bit unlucky. Poor Fat, he has 
wanted a pass to get home and see his mother 
ever since he has been here. But a pass 
wouldn't do him much good. He hasn't any 
uniform yet. Still waiting for the army tailors 
to get busy. I wouldn't be surprised if they 
shipped him to France with no more Govern- 
ment property than a khaki shirt. We've been 
consoling each other most of the day. Fat's a 
good chap and a mighty likeable fellow. 

It has been a day of rest, however, for all 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



47 



except Giuseppi, the company's barber. He 
has done a tremendous business ; shaved every- 
one, from the Captain down. 
Giuseppi 's methods are unique and interest- 




Giuseppi's methods are unique and interesting 



ing. Somewhere he found two planks, which 
he brought into the dormitory, and, by catching 
the lower ends under the iron work of one cot 
and propping them against the side of another, 
he contrived an affair that resembles remotely 
a steamer chair. Line forms to the right. 
Bring your own brush and shaving stick and do 



48 CONSCRIPT 2989 

your own lathering for a quick and effective 
shave. 

I can't guess how many he shaved. The line 
stretched the length of the dormitory from 
breakfast to dinner time. The men dabbed 
their brush into a single basin of cold water 
and moistened their faces while standing in 
line. Then as they moved on they soaped and 
lathered their own faces and rubbed it in thor- 
oughly. And by the time they reached the 
plank their bristles needed only a final appli- 
cation of lather and Giuseppi got busy with 
the razor. 

He is a wonder. All he did this morn- 
ing was strop and shave, strop and shave, and 
at ten cents a head — no I mean face — (twenty 
cents a head, only no hair cut on Sunday) I 
guess he made a fair week's wages. As each 
victim left the planks, said victim wiped the 
remaining lather from his face, ears and nose 
and applied his own talcum powder. 

Perhaps Giuseppi 's business was increased 
by his announcement: *^No shava for tree 
days now. To-morrow I getta da needle 
for twice times. No can use my arm vara 
moch." 



CONSCEIPT 2989 49 

Which reminds me that I am scheduled for 
my second inoculation to-morrow. 

I have been discovering some of the un- 
known who are in our midst. Unearthed a 
popular song writer (whose income before he 
adopted the dollar-a-day job for Uncle Sam 
was reputed to be $10,000 a year). I didn't 
unearth him really. He bobbed up this morn- 
ing, when several of the fellows were playing 
mouth organs, and now, behold, he's organizing 
a glee club. Then there is a linguist, who is 
fresh from the biggest financial institution in 
the world where he handled all their French 
and Spanish translation work. He has started 
a class in French which is in session for an hour 
every evening. We are all Parlez vous-mg 
with more or less (mostly more) inaccuracies. 
But what we lack in accent and correct pro- 
nunciation we make up for in genuine Parisian 
gestures. Oh, we're there all right. 

Another of our enterprising members is a 
well-known landscape gardener, who, in co-oper- 
ation with one of our several architects, has 
organized a campaign for a "barracks beauti- 
ful," all of which doesn't mean very much to 
most of us, but gives them a good opportunity 



60 CONSCRIPT 2989 

to dispose of their spare time. Our afternoons 
have been spent in pulling stumps in the vi- 
cinity of the barracks and grading the street 
and dooryard until now no one would ever rec- 
ognize it for the same place. But the land- 
scape gardener has carried the work a bit 
further and with the assistance of several of 
us, including myself, gone o:ff into the woods 
and dug up a score or more of pine and cedar 
saplings about five feet high. These have been 
transplanted in the form of a hedge around our 
barracks, on top of a tiny terrace, and they 
certainly soften the outlines of the unpainted 
building and add a touch of that which is lack- 
ing in the vicinity of most of the structures. 

He, the landscaper, has placed whitewashed 
stones at conspicuous corners, too, and on either 
side of our tiny porch he has worked out the 
number of the company and the number of the 
division in concrete letters, which the camp 
orderly scrubs industriously every morning to 
keep them white and presentable. The job of 
camp orderly, by the way, is the worst job a 
man can be detailed to here, being one degree 
lower than kitchen police; and since I know 
mighty well the rigours of that, I'm going to 



CONSCRIPT 2989 51 

steer clear of this other form of punishment, 
if it is humanly possible to do so. 

The Sunday crop of visitors flocked to camp 
as usual to-day and I entertained several who 
did not come to see me especially, but who 
brought along such delightful lunch that I felt 
constrained to show them about and be pleasant 
to them at least while the lunch lasted. 



Monday: 

We were excused from drill this morning for 
the purposes 'of being shod and getting our 
second inoculation. Getting our shoes was 
the most interesting and least painful of the 
two. 

After being shot (in the left arm this time) 
we proceeded to the Q. M., where in one portion 
of his domain shoes were being issued, two 
pairs to a man, one pair for work and the other 
for rest and fatigue. 

Of course, immediately the fitting began the 
men started to protest that they were insulted 
by being given shoes too large for them. But 
that didn't disturb the shoe man, who merely 
told them to mind their own business and he'd 



52 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



take care of their feet, which belonged to the 
Government anyhow. 

Standing on a flat surface in stocking feet, 
each man was loaded with a fifty pound bag of 
sand. Then when his feet 
had spread as much as 
they possibly could, meas- 
urements were taken from 
every angle, just exactly 
as if the shoes were to be 
built especially for the 
foot they were to adorn. 
The collection of figures 
was then gone over, and 
Each man was loaded compared with a chart, 
with a fifty pound bag after which two pairs of 
of sand. i? I 

shoes were found corre- 
sponding with the dimensions covered by 
number so-and-so. IVe forgotten what my 
number is, but I will confess that while the 
shoes are several sizes larger than I would ever 
think of buying in a shoe store, I have never 
had anything on my feet that gripped my heels 
and instep and ankles so firmly and yet allowed 
me room enough to wiggle my toes around. 
The dress shoes and the trench brogans of un- 




CONSCRIPT 2989 



53 



finished leather with half -inch soles filled with 
hobs, and steel plated heels, feel more comfort- 
able than any shoes I have ever owned, and I 





/^^^ 



"I like t' geey da Kais a keek in da face 
wid-a dose shoes" 

gratefully accepted the two pairs issued to me 
and left for my quarters. 

On my way up the road I passed an Italian 
who seemed so pleased with his new footwear 
that he just couldn't help exhibiting them to me. 
''Look,'' he said, waving his huge foot, shod 
with the trench shoes, about promiscuously, 
''look ad da shoos. I like V geev da Kais a 



54 CONSCRIPT 2989 

keek in da face wid-a dose shoos. Bet lie no 
smile some more dan.'' Then he added, by- 
way of showing his qualifications to muss up 
the Kaiser, ^^I belonga to ah wreckin' crew 
sometimes when I don't come down here." 



Tuesday: 

SWEAR; If you can't think of 
anything else to say, but do it 
softly — ^very, very softly, so no 
one else but yourself will hear 
you. 
Thus reads the sign that hangs over the door 
of the Y. M. C. A. shack, at the end of our camp 
street. That's what I call social work human- 
ized. The Y. M. C. A. here is the most human 
institution in this big, rawly human community. 
It is the thing that puts the soul in soldier 
as one chap expresses it. And because it is 
that way, and because the men feel at home 
and have a real time, and can smoke and put 
their feet on the table, they think the red 
triangle is the best little symbol about the big 
camp. The '* 'Sociation" is making thousands 
of friends every day among these strapping 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



55 



big", two-fisted fellows who really never knew 
what the organization was. It's bully. We all 
wander over there sometime during every eve- 




Our $10,000 a year song writer 

ning, if it's only to listen to a new record on 
the phonograph. 

The shacks (I don't know how many there 
are, but there must be at least a dozen of them) 
are the centres of amusement and entertain- 
ment for us all. And we have some corking 
concerts and other forms of entertainments 
there. I don't think I'll ever forget our 
$10,000 a year song writer as he appeared last 
night, for instance, standing on top of the 



56 CONSCRIPT 2989 

piano, his hair all mussed up and his army 
shirt opened at the throat, singing a solo 
through a megaphone. And it was some solo ! 
About fifteen hundred huskies in khaki stood 
around and listened to him and joined in on 
the choruses. 

Then they have lectures: **Ten Years as a 
Lumber Jack," ** Farthest North,'' by a certain 
well-known explorer; **My First Year of the 
Big War," and similar subjects appear on the 
bulletin boards every other night. Nothing of 
the Sunday School variety about that sort of 
thing. 

And our prize fights ! 

I'm all excited yet over the one I saw to- 
night. It was a whale of a battle ; I mean the 
last one was, there being several on the pro- 
gram. The fellows fight for passes to go 
home on Sunday and the decision is left up to 
the onlookers. And if we don't make the 
scrappers work for those passes, then no 
**pugs" ever did work. 

Most of the boxers are former pugilists who 
have been gathered up in the draft net, and so 
long as they can get a chance to put on the gloves 
they are just as pleased to be here as anywhere 



CONSCRIPT 2989 57 

else from all appearances. But sometimes the 
scrappers aren't *^pugs" at that ; just plain citi- 
zens who possibly have been shadow boxing in 
the secrecy of their bedrooms for the past ten 
years and longing for courage enough tp step 
into the ring with a real fighter and discover 
how good (or how bad) they are. They are 
getting the opportunity here all right, and some 
of them are uncovering a likely line of jabs and 
counters. One fair-haired youngster downed 
a mighty pugnacious-looking Italian a few 
nights ago. 

But to-night's final was a winner. Three 
scraps had been pulled off with real enthusiasm 
and after the final round, there was a call for 
more material, but no one in the crowd came 
forward to put on the gloves. There were 
calls and jeers and all that sort of thing, then 
suddenly out from the crowd stepped a soggy- 
looking, little red-haired fellow. 

Yells of ^^Yah Redney!'' ^^Hi Redney!" 
''Good boy Brick Top!" 

Redney blushed considerably and held up his 
hand for silence. And when he got it he 
explained. 

''I ain't a-going to fight no one but our Mess 



58 CONSCRIPT 2989 

Sergeant. That's what I'm out here for, and 
I'll stick here till he comes." 

Calls for Mess Sergeant. He wasn't 
present. A speeding messenger from Red's 
company hurried out through the night to find 
him. Ten minutes later, said Sergeant, a 
soggy-looking chap himself, was brought in and 
amid yells from the crowd he stepped inside the 
ring. He looked once at Brick Top, then spat 
on his hands and said : 

^* Where's them gloves!" 

Gloves were produced and laced on, then 
without the preliminary handshake they 
squared off and went to it. And what a battle ! 
They didn't stop for rounds, or time out, or 
anything. They just ducked and punched and 
whaled away at each other until the blood began 
to spatter all over and still they kept at it. 
I don't know what the misunderstanding be- 
tween them was and didn't find out, but they 
sure meant to settle the thing once and for all. 

And the spectators ; they went wild. 

For ten minutes steadily the fighters milled 
and I never saw a better slugging match. The 
Sergeant had had more experience in boxing, 
that was certain, but what Red lacked in skill 







M 



o 






60 CONSCRIPT 2989 

he made up for in hitting power. Every time 
his glove met the Sergeant's face it smacked 
as loud as a hand clap. 

Then just when it seemed as if they must be 
tired out, there was a sudden clash and a whirl 
of fists and Redney ducked away and started 
one from the floor. It was an uppercut and it 
found a clean hole between the Sergeant's two 
arms, and met him flush on the point of the jaw. 
He staggered, tried to fall into a clinch, missed 
the elusive Redney and went down with a 
thump. 

** 1-2-3-4-5-6- " counted the referee. 

The Sergeant rolled over and tried to get up. 
** Don't hold me down; lemme at him," he said 
huskily. But no one was holding him down. 
It was his refractory nerves. They wouldn't 
obey his will power. 

** 7-8-9-10," tolled off the fateful numbers. 
Then what a yell went up for Redney, and Red, 
almost all in, himself, evidently had satisfied 
his grudge, for he went over and helped stand 
the groggy Sergeant on his feet. 

And all agreed it was some battle. 

But the Y.M. shacks aren't dedicated to prize 
fights and swearing and concerts entirely. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 61 

They are the nearest approach to home or club 
life that most of us come in contact with for 
weeks at a stretch. The big, open hearths 
with their crackling logs are mighty fine places 
to spend a pleasant hour or two. Then there 
are the writing tables, and the reading rooms 
with their books and magazines, and the 
phonographs. 

The other night I saw a great big fellow, with 
burly fists and a stubbly beard on his chin (it 
must have been the night before his bi-weekly 
shave, which is as often as most of us can 
find time— or the inclination to use a razor) 
snuggled up close to the phonograph and listen- 
ing attentively to the '^Swanee Eiver,'' which 
he was playing as softly as the instrument 
would permit, and now and then he would blow 
his nose in a big handkerchief and wipe sus- 
picious signs of moisture from the corners of 
his eyes. He was having a regular sad drunk 
and enjoying every moment of it. I'll bet he 
thought he was the most homesick mortal in 
camp. 

Then there are the telephone booths. Every 
night there is a line of at least fifty men waiting 
patiently for a chance in the booth. At a dollar 



62 CONSCEIPT 2989 

a call they ring up the folks in the city and have 
five minutes' chat with them, just by way of 
warding off an attack of homesickness. I've 
used the booth ^ve dollars' worth to date. 

These army breeches I'm wearing, I noticed 
to-night, are very comfortable. I like the deep, 
straight pockets in them. I think I'll have my 
civilian suit made with those kind of pockets 
hereafter. But I haven't gotten over the habit 
of pulling them up each time I sit down so that 
they won't get baggy at the knees. 



Wednesday: 

Found my dog! 

I was over in another section of the canton- 
ment this morning, for a few moments between 
drill and mess call, and there was ^^ Local Board 
No. 163 ' ' as big as life, trotting along beside a 
chap I knew. It was Billy Allen. The dog 
recognized me and so did Billy and we stopped 
a while and compared notes. 

Billy had the worst hard luck story in respect 
to the Draft of any man I know. He's an 
old National Guardsman, having enlisted soon 
after we left school together. Spent eight 



CONSCRIPT 2989 63 

years in the infantry, and went to the Border. 
He left the service after he got back and a 
little later when a call came for men for the 
Officers' Reserve Corps he applied and was 
accepted, for the second camp. Meanwhile he 
had registered as a man of draft age. Then 
came his call for Officers* Training Camp, 
where he was making out famously; so well in 
fact that he was recommended for the aero- 
plane service. 

But the recommendation was as far as he 
got. The drawing had meanwhile been made 
in Washington, he was well up in the list and 
one fine day he received a notice to appear for 
examination. Of course he passed and was 
accepted. That yanked him out of the Officers ' 
Reserve and now he's down here, a private in 
the *^ Suicide Club," with Buck Winters, an 
old classmate of both of us, his comimanding 
officer. 

I told him about ^^ Local Board No. 163" 
whom he had dubbed ^*Mut" because he looked 
it. First we were going to match for the dog, 
but we decided, after a moment's reflection, to 
let him choose his master. Billy said good-bye 
and walked one way and I walked the other and 



64 CONSCRIPT 2989 

the dog, after a moment 's hesitation, went with 
Billy. And so I lost my dog a second time. 
I guess he didn't like my cold water treatment 
for fleas. 

An interesting thing happened here to-day 
that just shows how vast this huge cantonment 
is. The cot next to Fat and two below me has 
been vacant ever since we have been here. To- 
night a chap came in from the barracks next 
door, bag and baggage, and took possession of 
it. Fat made his acquaintance right off, and 
the newcomer told him that he had been trans- 
ferred to this company about the time we 
were — a week or so ago — and since no one 
told him where to go or where to bunk he 
went to the barracks next door and took a 
cot. 

But he really belonged in here and was a 
member of our squad, which for some myster- 
ious reason had always remained a seven-man 
squad, with the eighth man assigned to it but 
never heard from. Every roll call he had been 
marked absent, and he had been put down as a 
deserter and an alarm sent out for him through 
the country. At the present moment the New 
York police are searching diligently for him. 



66 CONSCRIPT 2989 

And all the time he has been within a biscuit 
toss of his proper place. 

Over in the other company he was an outcast, 
and they didn't know what to do with him. 
They were on the point of sending him back to 
the city as an interloper when somehow the 
mistake was discovered and he was summoned 
to report over here. The interesting part of it 
is, that he is an expert accountant, and his spe- 
cialty is searching out mistakes that other 
people make in the way of misplaced figures 
and things. 

So far as the police were concerned, he said, 
he didn't care much, for the last place they 
would ever look for him was down here. 
Speaking of deserters, I noticed three sets of 
finger-prints on our bulletin board which means 
that three men have taken French leave and 
they have prices on their heads, already. 



Thursday: 

This has been a moist and soggy day. I 
don't know that I have ever seen so much rain 
before in one storm as I have to-day. Before 
daylight it began; a perfect downpour, so vio- 



CONSCRIPT 2989 67 

lent that for reveille we lined up in the mess 
hall. None of ns ventured out to wash up, but 
those of us who missed a cold sprinkle the most 
had merely to poke our heads out of the 
windows for a moment and then reach for a 
towel. Some wetness. 

The camp is a veritable sea of mud, and 
those who go outdoors at all do so to the im- 
minent peril of becoming mired and never 
returning. From the mess-hall windows at 
breakfast we could watch the big heavy motor 
truck of the transportation train, skidding and 
sloshing about in the road, down which flooded 
a perfect torrent of muddy rain water. Sev- 
eral of them became hopelessly stuck in the 
sticky mud, and their drivers abandoned them 
and raced for cover in the Y. M. C. A. shack. 
Officers and men everywhere have given up all 
idea of outdoor work and the camp streets look 
forlorn and deserted. They stretch away down 
the hill to fade into the misty blur of the rain 
itself, and on either hand stand the long, un- 
painted barracks buildings, with dripping eaves 
and rain blowing in sheets from their tinned 
and tar-papered roofs. Outside, it is a dismal, 
deserted-looking cantonment, with scarcely a 



68 CONSCRIPT 2989 

sign of life, save now and then a venturesome 
canine mascot scuttling from one sheltered spot 
to another. 

Drilling, of course, is utterly impossible and 
the nearest approach we have had to anything 
resembling military training to-day is a lecture 
on sanitation in the mess hall by the First 
Lieutenant. 

But the rain has not dampened our desires 
for amusement and as a result the interior of 
the sleeping quarters presents, at the present 
time, a picture that only a Eemington could do 
justice to. Atmosphere sticks out all over the 
place. Army overcoats, tunics, variegated 
comforters, blankets, mess kits, sweaters and 
flannel shirts are hanging from every peg, 
and men are sprawled on their cots, in 
various attitude, some trying hard to sleep, 
some writing, one man thoughtfully locating 
the notes of a new tune on a mouth organ, 
while another over in the corner — an Italian — 
is the centre of an enthusiastic group, while he 
plays doleful things on an old accordion he has 
smuggled into camp. The air is blue with 
tobacco smoke. 

A number of us are writing, including myself, 



CONSCRIPT 2989 69 

but the chief centres of interest are the two big 
poker games and the big crap game down at 
the end of the room. 

They are all playing with that oppressive 
quietness that portends big stakes. I was 
startled a while ago upon walking over to the 
nearest group to discover eighty dollars, in 
ones, fives, and tens on the top of the army 
cot that served as a table in a single jack pot, 
and they were still betting. Our two Regular 
Army Sergeants are members of one group and 
Fat is sitting in at another. From the length 
of time he has stayed and the smile on his face, 
I can only guess that luck is with him for once. 

But it has failed a lot of others. Now and 
then a man leaves one game or the other, look- 
ing sort of hopeless. There is always some one 
to take his place, however. 

One of these fellows, gone broke, hit upon a 
happy idea which caused no end of interest 
for an hour or two this afternoon. After 
he had gone broke he left the game and 
sat thoughtfully on the edge of his cot for 
a while. Then he dug down into his duffel 
bag under his cot and brought forth a razor. 
Speedily he made up some raffle tickets on 



70 CONSCEIPT 2989 

slips of note paper and presently, with the 
razor in one hand and his campaign hat in the 
other, he started through the room selling 
chances on the razor at a dime a chance. The 
raffle was held over in our corner, and one lucky- 
chap got the razor, easily worth two fifty, for a 
single dime and the erstwhile owner, with five 
dollars worth of change in his pockets, returned 
to the game. 

That started the raffle hug, and presently a 
wrist watch was put up, then another razor 
of the safety variety, a fountain pen, an 
extra hand knitted sweater which some 
one had luckily acquired, several boxes of 
crackers which every one took a chance on at a 
cent a chance and a variety of other things. 
But the crackers were the most popular and 
that helped one ingenious and venturesome 
chap to evolve a money-making scheme. 

In the height of the rainstorm, he was seen 
to don his slicker, and hurry out into the storm. 
He splashed all the way over to the Post 
Exchange (about half a mile) to return a half- 
hour later with four pies for which he had paid 
forty cents each and three dozen boxes of 
crackers all in good condition. The crackers 



CONSCRIPT 2989 71 

went for double their value and the pies he 
successfully split up into twelve fair-sized 
portions which sold for ten cents each. That 
trip in the rain netted him nearly seven dollars 
he told me, and that seven dollars later on, 
invested in the crap game, trebled itself; so, 
all things considered, he has had a more or 
less successful day. 



Friday: 

It is fast getting home to me now that in 
spite of the heterogeneous conglomeration, of 
races and creeds and languages, the National 
Army is going to be the real thing as a fighting 
force after all. Every one is keen for the thing 
now that the first violent attacks of homesick- 
ness have worn off and they are going at their 
work of becoming soldiers with a will, except^ 
of course, for a few: the conscientious ob- 
jectors; and their life is no merry one. They 
are mighty unpopular, as numerous black eyes 
attest. Every one takes the slightest oppor- 
tunity to emphasize their displeasure at the 
stand these men have taken. And some of 
them are going around here under a cloud. 



72 CONSCRIPT 2989 

For instance, the one in the Machine Gun outfit 
who drills in pumps and summer suit but who 
has the pleasure of knowing that after his sol- 
diering is all over with, he has three years to 
spend in Atlanta or some other Federal jail for 
little things he has done and views he has 
expressed. 

We have one of the breed in our company, a 
Jew; and he's the most unpopular man in the 
outfit, even among those of his own race. All 
of this variety, (the ** objectors'' I mean), who 
have come to my notice, are sorry specimens 
of manhood for the most part and I can't 
blame an able-bodied chap for despising them. 

The foreign element is taking hold like real 
Americans. It is interesting to get their slant 
on the whole affair. Many of them didn't 
want to come. They had their own ideas of 
army life, suggested, doubtless, by tales they 
have heard of service in the European armies 
of former days. But when they were called 
they came; and behold, when they arrived and 
lived through the first days, they were sur- 
prised to find that they still were treated like 
human beings, had certain indisputable rights, 
were fed well and cared for properly and 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



73 



worked under officers who took a genuine in- 
terest in their welfare. This was something 
most unexpected. Right off they decided that 
they were going to get all they could out of this 




"Make-a me strong, make-a me beeg, an' best-a 
make-a me good American" 



new life and give in return faithful and honest 
service. 

^^It^s fine, I like it/' assured a little Italian 
friend of mine in the infantry. ''1 like it be- 
cause it help make me spick good English, 
make-a me strong, make-a me beeg an' best-a 



74 CONSCRIPT 2989 

what is, make-a me good American, jus like-a 
de boss Lieuteii\" 

And in that last sentence, I believe, lies the 
charm of it all to most of the foreigners. They 
have learned that America and things Ameri- 
can are fine and clean and good and their am- 
bition now is to become a real American 
*^jus like-a de boss Lieuten'." And when they 
get to be real Americans, they are going to be 
proud of the fact and they are going to fight 
to prove it; that's certain. 

The camp is still soggy to-day and we have 
drilled ankle deep in mud. My feet have been 
wet from the time I stepped out of the barracks 
until an hour ago, when I changed my socks and 
put on my dress shoes. But shucks, what ap- 
petites we brought back with us from the 
parade grounds. I never did care for fish, but 
I'll be hanged if I didn't eat three helpings 
of the creamed salmon and spaghetti to- 
night. 

A new wrinkle has developed here. We find 
out what the fellows are going to have for 
supper in nearby barracks and if the feed 
promises to be better than what we are to 
have several of us take our mess tins and go 



CONSCRIPT 2989 75 

ov^r and stand in line there. The Mess Ser- 
geant never knows the difference. 



Saturday: 

Sad news this evening. Only twenty-five per 
cent, of each company is to be allowed to go 
home to-morrow, because of the disorder and 
general trouble at the railroad terminal last 
Sunday. And the twenty-five per cent, is to 
be drawn out of a hat. No chance for Fat or 
me, that's certain. We're mighty unlucky 
when it comes to passes and we are laying odds 
now that neither of us will get permission to 
go to the city. Anyhow, Fat is still in the same 
predicament. If he does get a pass he won't 
be able to leave the camp. 

At the present writing we are all waiting 
for the mess call. And immediately after mess 
the Sergeant will do the drawing of the names 
for the passes. If I am not among the lucky 
ones I'm going to try and — there goes the mess 
call! 



76 CONSCRIPT 2989 

Srniday: 

I am ready to die with a smile on my lips 
and a great happiness in my heart, for IVe 
spent one night between clean sheets, on a 
really soft bed. IVe eaten with a silver knife 
and fork from real dishes and — whispered 
softly— in the privacy of my own home I had 
a glass of beer ! 

No, I wasn't lucky (neither was Fat) but I 
think I pnt something over on Uncle Sam. 

The passes for the city were drawn for as 
per schedule and since I was down at the 
bottom of the list I was not included in the first 
twenty-five per cent. The passes issued read 
for New York City, and the men holding them 
were privileged to leave by certain trains, being 
marched down to the station under the watchful 
eye of the Second Lieutenant. 

Then, after these men were all away, came 
the opportunity for the men who lived near the 
camp and the men who wanted to visit nearby 
towns to apply for leave. This was my oppor- 
tunity. I applied for thirty-six hours' leave to 

visit the town of R , twenty miles distant, 

and secured it. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 77 

Back in the barracks an interesting scene was 
taking place, scores of tickets of leave had been 
handed out to the men, to take the night and 
following day off, but to get out of camp they 
must be able to pass inspection with perfect and 
well-fitting equipment, and since all of us had 
not our full outfit, we had to hustle around and 
borrow articles of clothing that would fit and 
look satisfactory. I, for instance, have a full 
winter uniform except for overcoat (which I 
have not received) and tunic, the one I am 
wearing being a summer coat of cotton and 
hardly matching the wool trousers I possess. 
So I had to join the crowd who were bartering, 
exchanging and renting uniforms. And since 
the first men to leave had done the same thing to 
a certain extent, there was not much desirable 
clothing left in the barracks. Overcoats were 
going at a dollar a day and breeches and jackets 
for fifty cents each. After a diligent search I 
did find a chap who had a winter tunic and sum- 
mer trousers and, wonder of wonders, his jacket 
fit me perfectly. We made an exchange and I 
borrowed an overcoat at one dollar for the day, 
from a chap who was not leaving camp, and 
sallied forth. 



78 CONSCRIPT 2989 

Tramping down Twenty- third Avenue (the 
streets are all named here and our barracks 
is on Fourteenth Street and Third Avenue), 
whom should I behold but friend Billy, bound 
in the same direction. He had had the same 
inspiration as I and he, too, had a pass for 

R . We wandered on together, but upon 

reaching the railroad station, our hopes of get- 
ting to our destination were dashed. There 

were no more trains for R until the 

morning ! 

We wept. But our tears didn't blind us to 
the fact that there were occasional machines 
passing along the highway. So we walked out 
and stood there in the moonlight and looked as 
lonesome and forlorn as possible. 

And the first machine to come along was a 
beautiful big Pierce Arrow limousine, with an 
old dowager, a pleasant and generous old soul, 
its single occupant, save of course the chauf- 
feur. We went to R in style ; and, more- 
over, we went there in a hurry, for with khaki 
in the machine the chauffeur assumed that he 
had the right of way and full permission to 
wreck the speed laws. 

At R we looked up time tables and dis- 



CONSCRIPT 2989 79 

covered that we could get a train into the city 
at ten-thirty, which was not so bad. Then, be- 
cause our passes really limited us to R , we 

concluded that it was only fair to the Govern- 
ment to at least eat a meal in that town and 
since we were both hungry in spite of our recent 
mess, we searched for a restaurant. 

We found one; a French restaurant, which 
looked peculiarly deserted. The door was 
locked, for some strange reason, yet there were 
several men in aprons inside apparently hard 
at work. We rattled on the door and in a mo- 
ment the frowning proprietor came forward. 
But the frown changed to a smile when he saw 
us. It was the khaki. He unbolted the door 
and, with a ceremonious bow, welcomed us in, 
then closed the door and bolted it. 

And then he explained that this was a new 
restaurant not yet opened for patronage. He 
expected to open up in a day or maybe two. 
But, of course, he could not turn away two 
hungry soldiers, never. Merci non! He had 
nothing to serve us with, but what were our 
desires? Express them and he would send out 
for the provisions, cook them and serve them. 
Steak I Indeed, yes. In twenty minutes we 



80 CONSCRIPT 2989 

would have a wonderful steak, French fried 
potatoes, salad, coffee and ice cream. Jean 
would attend to it. 

And Jean did. He rustled up the steak and 
the rest and we alone occupied the restaurant, 
and soon were eating the most delicious piece 
of beef we believed we had ever put our teeth 
through. The bill! Nothing; nothing at all— 
what? — well if we insist, one dollar each. 
Thank you ! And now here is a pen and some 
ink. You will please autograph each bill and 
behold, when you return from glorious Prance, 
covered with glorious glory, you should come 
in and see these two bills — the first money 
taken in at the restaurant — framed and hang- 
ing there over the desk. And so, I suppose, 

the future generation of visitors to R will 

be able to view these immortal monuments to 
our — I don't know what, unless it be our 
khaki uniforms — hanging there in the French 
restaurant possibly surrounded by wreaths as 
each anniversary of day before yesterday rolls 
'round. 

We got the ten-thirty train for the city, and 
we almost got into trouble too; or at least I 
did, for as we hurried into the smoker whom 



CONSCRIPT 2989 81 

should I see sitting buried in a magazine but 
the First Lieutenant of our Company. Had 
lie made the trip the same way we did? I 
don't know and, of course, I didn't ask. We 
just walked through the car very swiftly and 
he never looked up. 

It was fifteen minutes of midnight when I 
arrived home, let myself in with my latch key 
which I have been carrying as a silent reminder 
of my former terrifically wild ( 1) career ; routed 
out the folks, and sat swathed in bath-robe 
and dressing-gown until 3 o'clock, just talking. 
It was bully. And then I tumbled into my own 
bed and slept and slept and slept. I woke up 
at reveille all right — (it was just daylight) — 
grinned, rolled over and slept and slept and 
slept some more. 

Then I had a real bath in a real tub with real 
hot water, and a lot of real things to eat and 
real cigars to smoke and real friends to talk 
with until five o'clock in the afternoon, when I 
crawled into my regimentals once more, and 
went out to meet Billy by appointment. 

Going back via E route (which was 

necessary) curtailed our leave which really 
continues until to-morrow morning at reveille, 



82 CONSCEIPT 2989 

but then we were very happy; so happy that 
when we arrived in R we chartered a taxi- 
cab for the twenty mile drive out here and now 
I'm nearly frozen through from the cold wind 
that blew in at us. And I'm tired, too, but I'm 
happy and ready to turn in ten minutes before 
taps. 



Monday: 

I'll need no ** Melody in Snore Minor" to lull 
me to sleep to-night, for I am thoroughly 
weary. It was intimated a day or so ago that 
our training would be hurried a little so 
that we would be ready for a quick shift 
at any time. But hurried doesn't exactly 
describe it. It looks like an early fall drive 
to me. 

We began at the beginning, this morning, and 
had our squad drills all over again, and some- 
how in the juggling about of men to make up 
our company formation I managed to get last 
place in line, and pivot man in the front rank 
of the last squad. 

Before to-day I've been in the rear rank and 
had a screen of front-rank men to cover up any 



CONSCRIPT 2989 83 

blunders I might make, but being in the first file 
gave me stage fright. And, of course, with the 
stage fright I bungled ;— forgot which was left 
and which was right. We began by facing, and 
first chance I managed to turn left when the 
command was right. That blunder made me 
more self-conscious. If I had had to talk I'm 
sure I would have stuttered. As it was I 
stammered with my feet. 

Then ^^ About Face.'' 

I faced about all right, only I pivoted on a 
stump root that some stupid had forgotten to 
dig out. The result was I lost my balance, and 
made several movements instead of one before 
I came to position. 

At drills the Sergeants, who do most of the 
drilling, are equipped with sticks about a yard 
long so that they can poke a rear-rank man in 
the back without disturbing the front-rank men, 
and thus call attention to blunders. Being a 
rear-rank man on the about face, I presently 
felt the stick poking into my ribs and the 
command : 

**You step out here." 

I stepped out, and was requested, along with 
much language, to go up in front of the com- 



84 



CONSCEIPT 2989 



pany and give a demonstration in the proper 
method of ^^ about facing." 

My self-consciousness fled immediately. I 
was mad. I wanted to talk back, and make a 




A demonstration in the proper method of " about 
facing '' 

few remarks about the Sergeant and the 
stump and things. But I suddenly thought 
of a tour of kitchen police and restrained my- 
self. Instead I about faced with such energy 
that the Sergeant knew I was boiling inside, 
and being a decent sort of a chap, he sent me 
back to the ranks after a couple of demon- 
strations, instead of keeping me out there for 



CONSCRIPT 2989 85 

fifteen minutes as I have seen them do to some 
lellows. 

After that I felt more at ease in the front 
rank. All morning long we ambled across the 
landscape, doing squad and company move- 
ments. It was just drill, drill, drill, for fifty 
out of every sixty minutes, the ten minutes be- 
ing allowed as rest periods. We reviewed all 
our previous instructions and worked up to the 
pomt of forming company fronts, with the 
movements of right and left front into line and 
on right into line, and as pivot man, I think I 
did mighty well. Our squad never stepped off 
a pace ahead of time on any of the formations. 
And when we were marching back to the bar- 
racks at mess time, the Sergeant came up 
beside me, and remarked, by way of apology 
for haulmg me out of the ranks earlier in the 
morning, that I was doing good pivot work. 
Perhaps we didn't enjoy mess! Three 
helpings of navy beans for me with pineapple 
marmalade, and a piece of salt pork on the 
side, not to mention three cups of coffee and 
three slices of bread. I sure had luck on the 
mess Ime to-day. 

This afternoon the First Lieutenant took 



86 CONSCEIPT 2989 

charge of the company, and he had us trapsing 
all over the landscape again, doing the same 
sort of close order manoeuvres, and when we 
lined up just before retreat he announced that 
we would have rifles to-morrow morning. 

It is interesting to see how rumours travel 
and gather force in the barracks. Some one, 
somehow, heard that an artist and a stenog- 
rapher from our company are to sail for France 
in a day or two. Of course, all my friends have 
come to the conclusion that I am the artist. A 
chap told me about it at mess this evening, and 
since then several dozen have looked me up to 
shake hands with me and tell me good-bye, with 
such remarks as: **Hear you have orders to 
sail for France to-morrow; great.'' ^^They 
tell me you got a commission from Washington 
and that you are going across in a day or two,'' 
or, **Say, you're a lucky chap; where 'd you get 
the drag down in Washington!" 

But these queries fail absolutely to thrill 
me. I am quite calm and undisturbed. I deny 
any ^^drag" whatever, and I know that I am 
not the artist mentioned in the order for trans- 
fer, if there is any such order, which I doubt. 
This is only about the ^th time that same 



CONSCRIPT 2989 87 

rumour has been afloat as a result of whicli I 
have bade good-bye to my friends about every 
other day only to discover myself still with 
them a week later with the same old rumour 
bobbing up again. 



Tuesday: 

I'm really a soldier. I know the manual 
of arms. 

This morning, true to the First Lieutenant's 
prediction, we drilled with rifles and now I am 
quite convinced of the truth of the old saying 
that a gun is dangerous without lock, stock, or 
barrel. Fat turned around suddenly when he 
had his rifle over his shoulder and poked the 
muzzle of it into my mouth; a regular Happy 
Hooligan performance, and now I have a split 
(and considerably puffed) lip and a loose tooth 
to my credit in this horrible war. 

We were marched over to one of the infantry 
barracks on the edge of the big parade grounds 
and there we found our rifles ; I mean ours for 
the day only, because there are hardly enough 
in camp to equip us all yet and we have to 
take turns using them. In the same way 



88 CONSCEIPT 2989 

there is only one field piece to each artillery 
company, but that doesn't seem to worry the 
artillery men much. 

They are doing some real drilling over on the 
other side of the camp. I was surprised to 
discover a company at work digging trenches, 
another company practising throwing hand 
grenades, with stones representing the deadly 
Mill's bombs, still another group constructing 
parapets of sand bags, and working out ma- 
chine gun emplacements, and in the distance 
artillery companies hovering about a sleek 
looking gun, learning the complicated parts 
and where and how the animals are served. 

Krags, instead of Springfields, are the rifles 
available for drilling purposes here, and for the 
first hour this morning we devoted our time to 
learning the floor plan of the thing. I was 
getting along famously until Fat interrupted 
my investigations with the muzzle of his 
weapon. 

Soon after that we started drilling. And I 
think it is to our credit that before noon we 
had mastered all the movements and that our 
pieces snapped up to position with real 
vigour. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 89 

^'Let me hear them hands slap them pieces/' 
said the Sergeant; then *'Ri — sholler— harms ! 
One-two-three-four! Pep, that's it, pep an' 
snap. Slap 'em hard. Ordah — harms! One- 
two-three! Done drop 'em — done slam 'em 
down. Nex' man slams 'em gits kitchen 
p'lice." 

So we drilled until our arms ached, and rifles 
that weighed about eight pounds at the begin- 
ning of the drill seemed to have increased to 
fifty pounds, and felt as long as telephone 
poles. Perhaps we weren't glad when our 
First Lieutenant put a stop to the punishment 
and started us in the general direction of the 
mess hall. 

And we had beef stew for dinner ; beef stew 
with rich brown gravy, such as our old biscuit 
shooter alone can make. 

But after mess we were back at it again. 
Only this time it was bayonet practice, but not 
of the variety pictured in most magazines. We 
haven't reached the stage of charging trenches 
and swinging bundles of sticks. Such ad- 
vanced work comes later. 

Bayonets are awkward, ugly things, and I 
could not help being grateful that Fat took it 



90 CONSCRIPT 2989 

into his head to poke me in the mouth with his 
rifle this morning instead of this afternoon. If 
he had waited until after mess he wouldn't have 
split my lip; he would have cut my head off. 
When I saw him with bayonet fixed I gave him 
a wide radius of action. Indeed I avoided him 
as if he were a plague. 

In open, or extended, order we lined up on 
the parade grounds in front of one of these 
movable elevated platforms. Our Second Lieu- 
tenant mounted this, and with a bayonetted rifle 
in hand went through the various lunges, 
thrusts and parries of the bayonet manual, 
meanwhile giving us a lecture, to the effect that 
no matter what the War Department intended 
to do with us, a knowledge of bayonet fighting 
would be essential. He assured us that the 
logical weapon for an American soldier was 
the rifle. One of our birthrights is markman- 
ship and another is bayonet fighting. He 
briefly cantered over a century and a half of 
history of the Republic and pointed out how 
we had won fame and honour with bullet and 
bayonet, and he wound up by telling us that 
every American soldier should prepare himself 
so that he would be as dangerous to fool with 



CONSCRIPT 2989 91 

as a stick of dynamite. Picture good-natured 
Fat impersonating a stick of dynamite. 

Then we went at it. We lunged and thrust 
and parried until perspiration began to stand 
out on our foreheads. From the corner of my 
eye I had a vision of Fat trying to disguise 
himself as a high explosive. Every time he 
lunged, he would scowl viciously and emit a 
loud grunt. I discovered a few moments ago, 
however, that it was a case of over-eating at 
mess time that caused him to grunt and 
frown every time he tried to move very fast; 
not a desire to look ferocious, although I 
guess it passed for that in the eyes of the 
instructor. 

And now I'm told we are to get this sort of 
training daily for a long period; close order 
formation in the morning, with rifle and bay- 
onet drill in the afternoon and later on we will 
do skirmish work, trench work and open order 
work with rifles. Some of the infantry com- 
panies are already doing that. I was treated 
to the spectacle of two companies scurrying 
across the upper end of the parade grounds like 
so many rabbits. Now and then they would 
fling themselves down on their stomachs and 



92 CONSCRIPT 2989 

begin snapping away merrily with empty rifles 
at an imaginary enemy. 

We are a tired-looking company to-night. 
Already half the cots are filled with men, some 
of them snoring lustily and it is only a quarter 
to ten. 



Wednesday: 

There are a lot of things calculated to stir 
a chap's sentimental streak about this camp, 
particularly the nights; moonlight nights like 
to-night for instance. Every hard outline of 
the huge place is softened under the blue-black 
mantle of night, and the disagreeable things are 
lost in the heavy shadows and the moonlight 
floods the open places, and glistens on the rows 
upon rows of tin roofs and tall, gaunt-looking 
tin smoke-stacks. Watch-fires (a sanitary pre- 
caution) blaze in their deep holes in the rear of 
each barracks building, and the lonesome fire- 
guard, bundled in his overcoat and with rifle 
over his shoulder, stands silhouetted against 
the night sky beside each flaring pit. 

Out on the main streets of the camp are 
thousands of fellows in khaki, walking aim- 



CONSCRIPT 2989 93 

lessly up and down, while in the by-streets 
between the barracks buildings one sees 
shadowy figures and glowing cigarette ends 
moving about in the darkness. Through the 
tiny panes of each barracks window, partly 
obscured by overcoats and sweaters which 
dangle from pegs inside, filters a warm yellow 
light, and as one moves down the row, one 
hears from one building the music of an 
accordion and the rhythmic shuffle of feet 
which tells of a ''stag'' dance being held in the 
mess hall; while from another comes the soft 
plunk-plunking of a banjo and the occasional 
drone of a mouth organ that seeks after har- 
mony, but only succeeds with an effort. 

Off to the right toward the parade grounds 
some fellows are singing and their songs sound 
mighty good in the moonlight. And from far 
beyond where the thick pine woods stand out 
black against the sky comes faintly the hoot- 
ing of a distant owl. 

On the main streets that skirt the outer edge 
of the cantonment on three sides, the arc lights 
glisten, like rows of far off diamonds against 
the velvet of a jewel box, and here and there, 
where two twinkle, like low-hung stars, stand 



94 CONSCRIPT 2989 

out the Y.M. shacks where the men are gath- 
ering for an evening's recreation. 

It is wonderful to wander out such nights as 
these. Bundled in a sweater to keep out the 
chill of evening, and with only my pipe for 
company, I often go tramping off through the 
by-streets of the camp. The smoke of the 
hundreds of watch-fires is wafted to me on 
every breeze and in wood smoke there is a 
charm; the charm of camping out. Never in 
my life will I smell the smoke of burning pine 
wood, but that these nights will come trooping 
through my memory, and I'm certain that I will 
be homesick then and want to come back and 
live them all over again. 

And the things I often see: — the fire- 
guard for instance, who alone out there be- 
hind the barracks was trying hard to read 
a letter by the light of his flickering watch- 
fire. Was it a letter he had just received 
and could not wait to open, or was it a 
letter that he had read many, many times 
before and was rereading once again? Then 
the lonesome dog who sat out in the company 
street and stared up solemnly at the moon, 
like a lone wolf on the prairie. What instincts 



CONSCRIPT 2989 95 

were being waked within Mm by the moonlight? 
And the silhouette through the window of the 
chap sitting on his cot patiently plying needle 
and thread and the two fellows who leaned 
against the jacketed field piece in front of 
an artillery barracks and talked in whispers, 
while through the opened door of the buildings 
on either hand came the noise of a rousing 
good time within. 

Then the tramp up Tower Hill, where 
the headquarters building with its darkened 
windows like sightless eyes stands out from 
the sparse remains of the pine woods, flecked 
here and there with patches of moonlight. 

Far off across the great camp, and across the 
tops of the pines one can dimly see from the 
top of the hill the ocean with the moonlight 
flashing on its surface, and occasionally comes 
a breath of chilled salt air that stirs a longing, 
vague and fleeting, as the ocean has always 
stirred a longing in the soul of the adventurer. 
From here one can look down upon the great 
camp. Thousands and thousands of roofs 
stand out in the moonlight, and the watch-fires 
twinkle in orderly rows up and down each 
camp street. Far off to the left are the big 



96 CONSCRIPT 2989 

machine shops and forges of the construction 
company, the forge fires glowing red against 
the night, while faintly comes the far-off ring 
of anvils. Those forge fires, like the bakery 
fires, never die. 

To the eastward is the railroad terminal with 
its panting engines and its medley of noises, 
while nearer at hand but in the same direction 
is the transport headquarters with its cease- 
lessly moving caravan of rumbling, grumbling 
army trucks. All combines to make a picture 
that holds one spell-bound. 

The days here are pleasant indeed, but the 
nights are almost intoxicating. They cast a 
spell upon me and leave a memory that can 
never fade. 

Monday: 

This place looks like a growing mining town 
somewhere out West, but for real atmosphere, 
the civilian camp, outside the reservation, has 
the cantonment looking really civilized. I went 
out there this evening after mess ; for I heard 
that there was a cigar store included in the out- 
fit, and the impression I got was a lasting one. 
Everything of the frontier was there save the 



CONSCRIPT 2989 97 

saloons and the gambling halls. Shacks, tents 
(rows upon rows of them), lean-tos and all 
forms of domiciles. And the men who walked 
the streets were of every variety, including 
real lumber jabs in mackinaws and spiked 
boots, who had come down to cut away the 
timber; Italians, Poles, Swedes, Slavs and 
what not, and a real cowgirl, in short skirts and 
high leather boots, with a silk handkerchief 
scarf, sombrero and a big thirtyreight strapped 
to her hip. She, I learned, runs a motor bus 
between the civilian camp and the nearest 
towns. 

Cook fires twinkled outside of the tents, lights 
showed through the canvas walls reflecting the 
huge, grotesque, shadowy figures of the occu- 
pants. From one emanated the strains of an 
accordion and from another the babble of voices 
that suggested a quarrel over a card game. 

I found the cigar store. I found other stores, 
too, just shacks thrown together, but carrying 
a stock of everything in the line of wearing ap- 
parel and eatables. One displayed the sign of 
*^ Jack's Unsurpassable Lunch," another ^^The 
Elite,'' and another *^The Emporium." There 
were hundreds of squalid booth-like structures 



98 CONSCRIPT 2989 

besides, where a host of curious things were for 
sale to the hordes of big-fisted, deep-chested 
men who were brought there to build the can- 
tonment. But they tell me that the civilian 
camp is fast breaking up now, for the can- 
tonment is almost completed. The remount 
stables for the artillery, the refrigerating plant 
and the huge bakery are all that remain to 
be built and the labourers are leaving in big 
groups. 

The temporary bakery (I passed it to-night 
on my way back to camp) is represented by a 
double line of tents, before each of which is a 
big field baking oven, its coal fire glowing from 
lower doors like huge, red eyes and its gaunt 
smoke-stack reaching upward to terminate in 
a cloud of black smoke which ascends higher 
and higher in long, graceful spirals until it is 
lost in the darkness of the night. 

Before these ovens work the bakers, in khaki, 
of course, but each swathed in a flowing white 
apron. With sleeves rolled up and shirts 
opened at the throat, they wield their long 
bakers' paddles, and as they pass to and fro 
in the dull red firelight, they look elfish and 
grotesque; exactly like a lot of gnome bakers 



CONSCRIPT 2989 99 

off in the '^nowheres'' baking bread for some 
ferocious ogre who bids them work incessantly. 

And these loaves they bake are indeed loaves 
for ogres; huge affairs two feet long and as 
big 'round their rich brown girth as pumpkins. 
In ^^ sheets" of a dozen each they are brought 
from the fire and placed steaming hot on a 
nearby table where an expert breaks them 
apart and tests the tenderness of their fibre 
and searches for signs of doughiness. These 
bakers are all of the Eegular Army now, but 
not long since czars of dingy cellar bakeries 
located anywhere from Boston to San Fran- 
cisco. But the ogre has called them together 
and here like gnomes they work, eight hours 
each in three shifts and the oven fires are kept 
burning always. 

Still we drill, drill, drill. This morning was 
spent in manoeuvring and tramping over the 
wet and soggy countryside in company forma- 
tion, and this afternoon, by way of variety, we 
were given a few hours fatigue duty in the line 
of uprooting more stumps and gnarled ten- 
tacles, that seem to have rooted themselves in 
China. But our hands are hard and leathery 
now and our muscles no longer creak and pain 



100 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



under the stress. I've added four pounds to 
my former weight and I have never felt more 
fit in my life. 




They seemed to have rooted themselves in China 



Tuesday: 

The cost of high living here is enormous. 
The stoop-shouldered, shrewd-eyed, flinty- 
hearted Yankee clerks behind the broad 
counters of the ^^Post Exchange'' disdain any- 
thing less than a quarter. Dimes and nickels 
are chicken-feed, and pennies — impossible. If 



CONSCRIPT 2989 101 

a chap buys one apple at five cents or one pear 
or one banana (always green and a long way 
from being ripe) he has to hide himself in the 
crowd to escape the baleful eye of these grasp- 
ing sharks. Five cent crackers sell two boxes 
for a quarter, penny candies are five cents each, 
cigars and cigarettes are considerably above 
normal in price and considerably below in 
quality, and ice cream sells for ten cents a 
gram. 

But none of us has grown up. We are all 
like big boys and we spend with no thought of 
to-morrow. Mess over, we all hie out to the 
two main roads that lead to the *^Post Ex- 
change,^' jingling coins in our trouser pockets. 
The ''Exchange'' itself is a long, low unpainted 
building like all other buildings here with tiny 
back country windows, half-obscured by gar- 
ments hanging within which leave only a few 
dirty squares for the dull yellow light to show 
through. 

The doors are broad and through them 
streams a never ending line of troopers, some 
coming, some going. Inside, the place re- 
sembles nothing more than a huge up-country 
general store with shelves upon shelves stacked 



102 CONSCEIPT 2989 

high with cracker boxes, shoe boxes, hardware 
and goodness only knows what not, while from 
the rafters hang heavy coats, sweaters, lan- 
terns, huge stalks of green bananas, hams, 
bacon, boots and a lot of useless things that 
only gullible soldiers who feel a yearning to 
spend their money really purchase. But this 
spending of money somehow seems to bring us 
closer to civilization for the moment and we 
join the churning mass of men within, whose 
hobnailed shoes produce a great pounding and 
scraping sound and whose voices are raised in 
a constant babble of conversation which only 
the sharp ting, ting of the cash register bells 
can punctuate. 

We mill around with the crowd, and soon are 
pushed against a counter. Something attracts 
our eye. We feel a desire to possess it. We 
buy it, and start milling about the room again 
until presently we are near the door. Then 
we step out into the night again and join one 
of the groups of loiterers or sit about on boxes 
and piles of lumber, where we devour our pur- 
chase, if it happens to be in the line of crackers 
(which is usually the case), or admire it, if it 
happens to be a pocket flash lamp, a fountain 



CONSCRIPT 2989 103 

pen or something else that we really never have 
had any use for. 

The small-town idea prevails even in the city 
of thirty thousand lonesome men. The *'Post 
Exchange'' and the *^Post Office'' are the two 
centres of interest. First we wander to one, 
and then we wander to the other, then with time 
on our hands we join the stream of men going 
up one side of the road **just walkin' " and 
when we reach the point where most of the 
crowd turns back, we turn back, too, and con- 
tinue our ** walkin'," with no particular place 
to go, until the streets begin to get deserted and 
it is time for the town to close up. Then we 
disappear, too, and for an hour occupy our- 
selves in the barracks until taps are sounded 
and lights are out, when we go to bed ; the place 
I'm headed for now, so soon as I put the top 
on my fountain pen. 



104 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



Wednesday: 

Quick 



SICK CALL 

^ — x-3 1 1 3 — I i i 




That^s the call that brings out all the 
shirkers. They line up in the morning and 
present all sorts of ailments from sore throat 
to heart disease. 

The line is especially long on mornings when 
they know we are in for two hours of ' * settin '- 
ups ' ^ or when some especially hard detail such 
as camp orderly or kitchen police has been 
handed out. A day in the hospital will relieve 
one of all these duties. This morning I was on 
the long line. But I hasten to explain that I 
was sick (that's what they all say, of course,) 
with chills and a scrapy feeling in my throat; 
and since we are forbidden to take any medicine 
of our own, I shame-facedly line up with the 
rest of them. There were about twenty all told 
and the doctor made short work of us. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 105 

** What's the matter with youf very cross. 

*'I-I-I-here — it hurts," said one, pointing 
to his back and looking quite scared. The M. 
D. poked his finger into the spot designated. 

^^Man you're not sick," said the doctor in a 
very startling manner, '^you're almost dead, 
only you won't lie down. You've dislocated a 
couple of vertibraes, ruptured a half-dozen liga- 
ments and like as not you have a chronic case of 
pneumonia. The only thing that I can recom- 
mend for you is two hours of strenuous exercise. 
You may pull through and you may not." 
Then, with a malicious grin, he turned to the 
next man and the first invalid shuffled off, 
mumbling something about horse doctors with- 
out any horse sense. 

Two out of twenty of us got by. The rest 
went to work. I was one of the two. I had 
a slight temperature and an inflamed throat. 
Nothing serious, but report to the hospital. I 
did. And the best thing about the hospital was 
the fact that there were two sheets on the bed 
and I had an abbreviated flannel nightshirt to 
sleep in. Three big pills, the size of bullets and 
just as deadly, and then I turned in, went to 
sleep and slept right through mess time. 



106 CONSCRIPT 2989 

Four o'clock I was feeling very much better 
and ravenously hungry and at five o 'clock I was 
discharged as cured. I don't know what I was 
cured of, but I'm feeling much spryer just now 
after three helpings of beef stew and apple 
marmalade and I'm ready to turn in and sleep 
some more. 



Thursday: 

If there is one thing that I want to remember 
more than anything else about this Conscript 
Camp it is the spectacle I witnessed and took 
part in this evening. 

Fancy if you can Tower Hill with its big 
headquarters building snuggled in among the 
scattered and gaunt pines, the tall, ungainly 
water-tank propped up on all too spindly-look- 
ing stilts. On top of this a single figure thrown 
in bold relief by the golden yellow light of a big 
watch-fire, beating time with his baton, and 
below him, clothing the slopes of the hill five 
thousand men, his chorus, thundering forth 
across the starlit night ^^ Columbia the Gem of 
the Ocean." That chorus was wonderful; that 



CONSCRIPT 2989 107 

crowd was wonderful; everything about it was 
wonderful. 

We were all singing ; thousands of fellows in 
khaki, some snuggled in their big army over- 
coats, some puffed out like pouter pigeons with 
the sweaters they had piled on under their 
tunics against the cold chiU of night. Inter- 
mingled were the lumber jacks and labourers 
from the civilian camp, most of them in gay 
mackinaws and caps; with now and then an 
officer immaculately clad in clean cut uniform, 
or a Y. M. C. A. man in grey-green suit with 
red circle and triangle gleaming in the fire- 
light. And how well they could sing; I have 
never heard a more stirring chorus and as we 
raised our voices loud and clear shivery thrills 
raced up and down our spines, and we were 
stirred to the highest pitch of patriotic fervor. 
Indeed, there were some among us who could 
find no better way of expressing the ^emotion 
that swelled within save by tears. They cried. 
I was one of them. 

* ^America'' and ^^ Dixie'' and ** Maryland" 
followed and every one produced its own thrill 
and its own heartache. Never was there any- 
thing more stirring. Never was there anything 



108 CONSCRIPT 2989 

finer. We sang till our voices were husky and 
the great chorus surged loud and clear across 
the night, until it must have echoed against the 
crags of the Rhine and caused the Hun to 
shudder. 

Then the breaking up of the big meeting, 
when groups detached themselves and wan- 
dered out of the fitful flicker of the dying fire- 
light into the misty blue blackness of the night, 
still singing. Out through the streets of the 
camp we tramped, stepping to the cadence of 
our own songs. We were all happy, very, very 
happy and draft or no draft, down in our 
hearts we all knew that we were in the very 
place we were meant to be, and we were doing 
the very things that we should do, and that 
when the time came we would do other and 
greater things with as much eagerness and en- 
thusiasm as we had sung up there on Tower 
Hill to-night. 

The whole camp was singing even after the 
concert, but the character of the songs changed. 
**Over There'* swelled forth everywhere and 
*^The Yankees Are Coming'* was chanted in 
every street. Out toward our own barracks 
our little group swung, passing the railroad 



CONSCRIPT 2989 109 

siding where, partly shrouded in the canvas 
jackets, new artillery pieces were waiting to be 
moved in the morning. A cheer for these and 
a cheer for everything and anything that sug- 
gested patriotism, and on we tramped, brim- 
ming over with enthusiasm. 

And now I'm back to the barracks again, but 
the mysteries of the night and the spell of the 
whole wonderful occasion is still over me and 
I know I shall lie awake a long, long time and 
think and dream of all that waits for me in 
the not very distant future. And the promises 
I made myself up there on Tower Hill will all 
be fulfilled, that's certain. 



Friday: 

Momentous news. We of the headquarters 
company, or rather eighty-seven of us, start 
Monday on the first leg of that longed-for jour- 
ney to France. We go to a Southern training 
camp where new units are being formed into 
which each of us will fit. And along with this 
news came the announcement that none of us 
will be given a pass to go home for a last 
good-bye. This has stirred the men more than 



110 CONSCRIPT 2989 

the news of the transfer South. Several im- 
promptu indignation meetings were held this 
morning and this afternoon, just after mess, a 
real demonstration took place in the mess hall 
and most of the eighty-seven of us were loud in 
our assertions that we would go home anyway, 
even though we were arrested for desertion 
afterward. 

This little incident served to impress upon 
me more than anything else the freedom that 
is accorded the men of this new American 
Army, for behold, before the meeting broke up 
a Lieutenant came in and addressed us on the 
penalties for desertion, the difficulty of dealing 
with headstrong soldiers and similar subjects, 
and then when we all felt and looked like 
slackers he announced that although orders had 
gone forth that no passes were to be granted, 
our commanding officer, knowing our feeling in 
the matter, was at that time trying very hard 
to arrange to secure permission for the men to 
go home over Saturday night and Sunday. As 
I left the mess hall I wondered vaguely how 
such a mass meeting would have been treated 
in the German Army, for instance, and I 
thanked my lucky stars that I was an American. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 111 

But there are a thousand and one things re- 
maining to be accomplished to-day. I have 
been hurrying from one place to another since 
reveille and now at taps all that I should do is 
not done yet. But to-morrow is another day. 

First of all we were rushed off to receive our 
third and fourth inoculations together. Then 
came the announcement that we would be re- 
lieved of all our winter clothing and given a 
complete summer outfit instead, for it appears 
there is no need for woollens in this Southland 
camp to which we are going. 

And between times, there were a score of 
personal things I wanted to do, not the least 
of which was to join the line of waiting men 
before the telephone booths in the Y. M. C. A. 
shacks to tell them at home the news of our 
going. In all this, poor Fat seems to be sadly 
left out, for he is not among the fellows who 
are to leave. He stands helplessly by and 
watches the hurry and bustle going on about 
him, and sometimes I think there is a sad, wist- 
ful sort of a look in his big, good-natured face, 
for I know he doesn't like the idea of staying 
here when the snow begins to fall and winds 
whistle disconsolately around the corners of the 



112 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



barracks building. I am glad that I will not 
have to spend the winter here and I'm sorry, 
too, that Fat is not to be with me. 



^^ 



Saturday: 

To-day, for the first time since I have been 
here, I had visitors. Those at home, eager to 

get a glimpse of their 
soldier-boy in his native 
haunts, came down to see 
things as they are. I'm 
quite certain that the gen- 
eral arrangement of the 
barracks, with its cluttered 
appearance suggested by 
many pairs of shoes stand- 
ing around and many hats 
and coats and old sweat- 
ers hanging about, did not 
accord with mother's ideas 
of good housekeeping. 
And she assured me that 
many of the old rose, pink 
and baby blue comforters would not have suf- 
fered from a washing, all of which I had never 




A soldier-boy in his 
native haunts 



CONSCRIPT 2989 113 

noticed before, until she drew my attention to it. 
She intimated, too, that my dish towel and my 
hand towel would never testify as to my respect- 
able np-bringing, and she felt that I should make 
a practice of taking off those abominably heavy 
trench shoes in the evening and putting on a 
pair of slippers which she would send down to 
me. She thought that a bath-robe might come 
in handy for lounging in the evening and per- 
haps after we got comfortably settled in our 
Southern quarters, she might send one of the 
big, roomy library chairs down to me, for she 
did not approve of one's sitting on one's bed 
the way most of us did. She deplored the total 
lack of chairs about the barracks and she was 
quite sure that taking an ice cold shower out 
in that horrible big tin building would certainly 
result in innumerable cases of influenza, if 
nothing more serious. She's a dear old mother 
and I don't know that I have ever appreciated 
her so much as I have since I've been down 
here. 

Then with my visitors caring for themselves 
for a while, and mother chumming up with the 
always affable Fat, whom she took quite a fancy 
to, I hurried about my work of being re-outfitted 



114 CONSCRIPT 2989 

with summer uniforms. Fortunately they al- 
lowed me to retain my overcoat (which I re- 
ceived but a few days ago) until we are ready 
to entrain. 

Then came the passes. The officer was suc- 
cessful and we who are to go South are given 
a release from duty until to-morrow night at 
retreat. Other passes were distributed, too, 
and Fat fortunate for once, yet unfortunate, 
got one to go home until Monday morning. 
But poor Fat ! Still the military tailors lag and 
now that he has the pass that he has been try- 
ing to get for this last month, he cannot use it, 
for he is not properly uniformed to leave the 
cantonment, having still just his flannel shirt. 
He tried frantically to borrow parts of a uni- 
form to M him and while he could find a 
pair of breeches that he could get into, a 
jacket was lacking, so in disgust, and with a 
most unhappy smile, he gave it up and went 
over to the Y.M. telephone booth to ask his 
mother to come down and visit him over 
Sunday. 

And to-night there are no taps for me, for I 
am home once more and writing this at my own 
desk. We all came home together and had a 



CONSCEIPT 2989 115 

bully trip and now, after the best dinner I have 
eaten in many a day, I shall see a real show at 
a real theatre, and sit up as late as I choose 
and when I go to bed I will be between clean 
sheets again and there will be no officers' 
whistles to wake me in the morning. 

Sunday: 

Back again, but back to a sad and very un- 
happy barracks. Fat, poor, poor Fat, who felt 
downcast because he was not going South, has 
gone on a far longer journey. It is the first 
tragedy that has come into our life here in our 
barracks and with the thoughts of the breaking 
up of the big family on the morrow, and the 
homesickness, that most of us feel because of 
our all too brief trips home, has cast a gloom 
over us all. 

Unfortunate Fat, done out of using his pass 
by the slowness of the army tailors, telephoned 
home yesterday to have his mother come out to 
see him. At train time this morning he was at 
the terminal awaiting her arrival. But in the 
shifting of the cars back and forth in the yard 
an accident happened and Fat, in the way of 



116 CONSCRIPT 2989 

it, was one of its victims. Both his legs were 
crushed and he was hurried away to the 
hospital. 

Meanwhile, his grey-haired old mother ar- 
rived and stood about the terminal hour after 
hour wondering why he did not come for her, 
and it was not until late this afternoon that 
one of the boys in our company thought to go 
down and try and find her ; which, fortunately, 
was not too late to bid her son good-bye. 

And now we are on the eve of our departure. 
As I came through the terminal an hour ago the 
troop train, a long line of nondescript coaches, 
was being made up. As each car was made 
ready it was shunted into line by the ever- 
grumbling engine and to-morrow at daybreak 
all will be ready for us. Then we will go and 
some of us will be sorry, and some of us will 
be glad. As for myself, all that I can say is 
''Adieu, camp,'' and if the place I am bound 
for, wherever it may be, holds the charms that 
I've found here, I'll be happy. 



CONSCRIPT 2989 



117 



Monday: 

The mere suggestion of troop movements has 
a thrill to it, and we have had a lot of thrills 
to-day. 

After a long period of restless waiting, and 
good-byes to every one and everything about 
the old barracks, came 
the command to fall in. 
Then in summer uni- 
forms, and each with a 
big blue barracks bag 
crowded with personal 
belongings, extra uni- 
form, shoes, blanket 
and what not, on our 
shoulders, we lined up, 
shouted last farewells 
and stepped off, down 
the barracks street and 
out toward the railroad 

station. There was no whistling nor singing 
for we were all very solemn, and I was lone- 
some, for I was alone in line, the only member 
of our entire squad to go. 

We came upon other columns of fellows, 




I was alone in line 



118 CONSCRIPT 2989 

coming from other companies, bound with us 
for this Southern camp. On we marched to the 
terminal. Here confusion reigned for a while, 
for hundreds of men in khaki were scattered 
everywhere, all bending under blue duffel bags, 
and wondering what was to happen next. 

But soon we were entrained, and then with 
locomotive whistles hooting, and heads bobbing 
from every car window, we said farewell to The 
Camp. And with the leave-taking our spirits 
seemed to rise, for there was singing and 
whistling and horse play once more as the big 
cantonment faded from view behind its fringe 
of pine woods. 

Our first impression was that we would 
travel all the way to Georgia in the cars we 
had been assigned to, but, fortunately, this was 
not true, for after a long and tedious trip we 
detrained again at a ferry terminal in Brook- 
lyn. Here, too, was confusion. It was late in 
the afternoon, and we were hungry. Every 
candy stand, and handy store was patronized 
until the officers interfered. Then came the 
big, old fashioned side-wheeled ferries, and we 
were hustled aboard. 

Soon the old craft swung out into the river 



CONSCRIPT 2989 119 

and with churning paddles we headed down 
stream. 

It was just sunset. Far down the bay, be- 
yond Governor's Island and Liberty, a great, 
fiery red disc was setting in a haze of smoke 
and mist from the city, while to our right and 
left on the river banks, lights began to twinkle, 
and overhead strings of diamonds draped each 
gracefully arching bridge. Past the Navy 
Yard we swung, with cheers from the crews 
of three destroyers in the river. Tugs and 
steamers and passing sound night boats greeted 
us with whistles, and we lined the rails and 
cheered back. 

Soon we churned under the last of the 
bridges and began to make our tortoise-like 
way around the Battery. Lights were glimmer- 
ing through the violet haze that shrouded the 
mass of sky-touching buildings, and in the fore- 
ground were hurrying throngs of men and 
women wending their way through Battery 
Park toward the ferries. 

Up the North River, the skyline of the huge 
cities changed and grew more impressive, as 
one building after another came out of the 
mass and stood alone against the blue-black 



120 CONSCRIPT 2989 

Eastern night sky. Ferries criss-crossing in 
the darkness, leaving sparkling trails of light 
that danced on the water, crowded close to us 
at times, and the mass of men and women 
huddled on the windswept decks, cheered us on 
our way. Thus did we say our last good-bye 
to the big city — and we said it solemnly and 
thoughtfully, too, for many of us know that we 
are going on the long, long journey and will 
never see that skyline again. 

The crowds in the terminal, as we hurried 
from ferry to the railroad yard, cheered us, too, 
and men rushed out to shake hands with us and 
crowded cigarettes and cigars into our pockets 
as we marched on. 

We had been told that the Red Cross would 
feed us. It did, to the extent of a single sand- 
wich and a cup of coffee, hastily snatched as 
we wended our way through the railroad yard 
to the train. 

Long tourist sleepers are our lot. They 
stood on a siding, dimly lighted with a single 
candle at either end of the car when we climbed 
into them and were assigned to our seats. We 
are settled now, and rolling swiftly across 
Jersey. Lights have been turned on, and the 



CONSCRIPT 2989 121 

interior of the car looks very strange with the 
big blue duffel bags swinging from every hook 
and swaying as the train rounds each curve. 
But we are all very quiet, and many of us are 
thinking. We are all homesick that is certain, 
and hungry, too, and wondering about the 
future. 



Tuesday: 

We are rolling through Virginia into the 
sunset. 

For twenty hours we have been crowded into 
these cars, and we are cramped and tired, but 
feeling happier with all. Two to a berth, we 
tried to sleep last night. But sleep was im- 
possible. I was up most of the night, standing 
at the upper end of the car looking out the 
window, while my new-found bunkie tried hard 
to get in a few winks. He wasn't successful. 

At midnight we ran through a little station 
called Brandy, and there in a pounding rain- 
storm, under the light of a smoky, yellow oil 
lamp, stood a solitary soldierly-looking figure, 
a boy, bare-footed and with head uncovered and 
his rain-soaked cap held over his heart in a 



122 CONSCEIPT 2989 

salute. He alone had been watching for the 
troop train. 

Sometime after daylight, at Charlottesville, 
our train stopped for water. All signs of the 
rain had cleared, hundreds of boys, black and 
white, and men and women swarmed to the 
station to greet us. Our canteens were passed 
out of the windows for water, and hot coffee 
and thick sandwiches of home-made bread and 
jelly and delicious ham were given to us by a 
committee of very old women who had been up 
since long before daylight awaiting our arrival. 
Rations were served to us after we pulled out 
of the station, consisting of bread and hard 
crackers, and a can of tomatoes and a can of 
beans for every six men. 

By way of diversion we began to play poker 
for the beans, and a pair of jacks left me break- 
fastless, except for the coffee and sandwich I 
was fortunate enough to get at Charlottesville. 
And that is all I have had since seven o'clock 
and it is now half -past four. 

At one station along the line, where we laid 
over for a few moments, several fellows, acting 
as Sergeants, were sent out to buy food for our 
company. But the train pulled out without 



CONSCRIPT 2989 123 

them. Goodness knows where they are now, 
but the saddest part of it is that they didn't 
bring back the eats. 



Wednesday: 

We are travelling through a land of gold and 
red and green, with huge dabs of white marking 
the cotton fields. And we are hungry no longer. 

At Cornellia the train stopped for half an 
hour, and the fellows, all but famished, made a 
wild rush for the door, and sweeping aside such 
obstructions as angry Sergeants took the town 
by storm. About seven hundred soldiers de- 
scended upon it, and bought everything in the 
eating line that they could possibly find, even 
to whole cheeses, huge stalks of bananas, and 
cases of honey. We ate, and we flooded the 
town with money. Never has Cornellia seen 
such a busy half -hour in its history, and never 
did the stores do such a tremendous business. 

We held up the troop train while we satisfied 
our appetites. But what of it ! We are happy 
now, with tight belts and plenty of cigarettes 
to smoke, so why worry ! 

Never in my life have I seen so many negroes. 



124 CONSCEIPT 2989 

They swarm about the train at every stop 
we make, chalk their initials on the cars (as 
every one else has done) sing songs, cheer and 
just bubble over with enthusiasm. Last night, 
while our train was on a siding, an old fellow 
somehow got inside the car and did a wild buck 
and wing dance in the aisle for pennies that 
were tossed from every bunk. And this morn- 
ing another old fellow, with a bag of cotton on 
his back, came a little too close to the windows 
of the troop train. Eager hands seized the bag 
and pulled it from his shoulders, and presently 
the cotton was being distributed among the men 
as souvenirs. 

And now we are only twenty miles from 
Atlanta, and the fellows are beginning to pack 
up their belongings. Some are trying hard to 
shave in a crowded wash-room, for the long 
train ride has left us all appearing a little the 
worse for wear and we want to enter our new 
home as presentable as possible. 

I wonder what this new home will be like? 
Camp X is the cantonment and I am told that 
it is bigger than the place we left, but if it is 
half as pleasant we will be satisfied. 

THE END 



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